


Weapons of Mass Destruction

by vasaris



Series: In the Realm of the Infinite [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Author Has A Skewed Headcanon, Endgame, F/M, Foul and crude language, GFY, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Non-human Physiology, Temple of Mythal, Well of Sorrows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vasaris/pseuds/vasaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As any historian will note, open war is the beginning of an ending.</p><p>The Inquisition has done with waiting and they will meet Corypheus' forces in the Arbor Wilds, all in hope that they can stop the monster here before he attains a boost to godhood.</p><p>This, thinks Caputalis Adaar, is all well and good, but mostly she burns for blood and for battle.  The Iron Bull cannot help but agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Battle Born

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age fails to belong to me, much to my chagrin. It really should study harder. No copyright infringement intended, or moolah made on this work.
> 
> Note: I've done something I swore I wouldn't, which is follow the course of a major plot point from beginning to end, with my own spin and adjustments. I do hope you enjoy. :)

“You really do love him, do you not?” asked Morrigan.  “I had not expected it.”

 

Caputalis glanced at the slender, dark haired witch before turning her eyes back to Bull as he gleefully slaughtered Templars that had been corrupted by Samson and his red lyrium.  A hulking red behemoth burst forth from the undergrowth, spiked with lyrium crystals and flailing with rage.  Tallis surged forward, summoning a massive, two handed sword from the Fade.

 

“What of it?” Her blade struck true, its massless edge slipping through dense matter with the sweet ease of a lover, penetrating deep.  Morrigan froze the hulking beast solid and Tallis’ reverse sweep shattered the thing to gory chunks of flesh and crystal.

 

“You must know that it is a doomed, this thing you share with him.”

 

Tallis pulled a pure, deep red crystal from the fragmented corpse.

 

“Have you been talking to Leliana?”

 

Morrigan snorted her amusement.  “Princess Stabbity-Stab, as that clot Alistair called her, is not especially enamoured of me.  We share no conversation that is not related directly to the Inquisition.”

 

Cole appeared at Tallis’ side, bathed head to toe in blood.

 

Tallis frowned at him. “Is any of that yours?”

 

“No. Just theirs, the ones that hurt people.” Cole smiled his soft, lovely smile before pointing up the hill.  “The Commander says that they’ve found a spot to camp.  It will be dark soon.  I will tell the Iron Bull.”

 

The boy disappeared again and Tallis shook her head.

 

“’Tis an amazing thing, what you’ve done with that spirit,” Morrigan commented, golden eyes surveying the battlefield.  “It will be most formidable once it comes into its full power.”

 

_“He_ has a name,” Tallis rebuked her.  “And what he has done, he has done for himself.”

 

“Peace, I meant no harm.  ‘Tis merely an observation that the spirit that calls itself Cole is a remarkable being, one that may be unique in all the world.”

 

“He is.” Tallis watched as Bull reached out and ruffled the boy’s pale hair, smiling.  The two walked toward them, Cole clearly asked questions and Bull answered them.

 

“I hear we’re taking a break for the night.”

 

“Sweet sighs, wet and aching –”

 

“Cole!” Tallis’ voice rang in unison with Bull.

 

“Oh,” said Cole.  “Sorry.  I forget and the Bull was very loud.”

 

Tallis laughed while Morrigan smirked.

 

“Loud?” Bull caught her by the waist.  “I’ll show you _loud_ , Kadan.”

 

“Not right this moment you won’t.  I’m for a bath and some food.” said Tallis, looking Bull up and down.  “And so are you.”

 

Bull looked down at himself and then over at Cole.  “We did get kind of messy, didn’t we demon-kid?”

 

“It was very loud today,” agreed Cole dreamily.  “So many of them hurting without a way to escape.  So many more glad of the pain, because it means they can use it on others.  I helped them not hurt any more or cause any more hurting.”

 

“Let’s get clean kid,” Bull pulled away from her and touched Cole’s shoulder.

 

“Why?” asked Cole.  “We’ll just get dirty again tomorrow.”

 

“Kid, we have got to get you through puberty somehow.  My lady wants me clean, that’s all I need to know.”

 

“But she _likes_ the scent of blood.”

 

The sound of Bull’s reply was muffled by the trees.

 

Tallis buried her face in her hands.

 

“As I said,” Morrigan crossed her arms under her breasts.  “A truly remarkable being.”

 

“Is there something you wanted, Morrigan?”

 

“Oh, many things.  But in truth, there is something I wanted to offer you.”

 

Tallis stared at Morrigan as the sun bathed the area in shades of blood and gold.  “Huh.  I hadn’t expected that.  An offer from the daughter of Flemeth, Witch of the Wilds?  Sounds dodgy. Maybe dangerous.  I believe the sensation I am feeling now is called unease.  Perhaps disquiet.  Even a bit of trepidation.”

 

Morrigan rolled her eyes.  “You need not listen to my offer, but as I said, your relationship with your Hissrad is doomed, regardless of the name he has chosen to make for himself.”

 

“I know that,” said Tallis.  “I’m not stupid, you know.”

 

“Oh, I do know.  You have no idea how pleasant it is to speak with someone of wit and wisdom after so many years at court.” Morrigan waved a hand.  “I enjoyed being gowned and bejeweled like a precious thing, but it did not take long to tire of the unending superficiality of it all.  The Game, as you noted, is an occupation for the stupid and wasteful.”

 

“Fine.  What is it you want to offer me?”

 

“The one thing that will enrage the Tamrassans and would perhaps be the greatest revenge you could have on the Qunari, The Iron Bull included.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

Morrigan smiled, wicked-sharp.  “What else?  _Children._ ”

 

*

 

“Female Qunari can do _what?”_

 

“Choose to be seeded by a – or even several – males and retain that seed for later use.” Morrigan stretched like a particularly satisfied cat.  “’Tis an ability I might find myself envious of, were my darling Kieran not sufficient unto a lifetime.”

 

Someday Tallis was going to have to find out where Morrigan had even _gotten_ so much information about Kossith physiology and reproduction.  For the moment she was having too much trouble processing the idea.

 

“I – no, what?”

 

“Who can say?  Your race is well adapted for battle – perhaps it is a trait that allows you to rebuild after catastrophic losses.” Morrigan studied her, golden eyes gleaming.  “After all, Inquisitor, you are at heart one of the gentlest people I’ve met, yet battle-lust fountains from you in combat and the scent of blood arouses you at least as much as the musk of your lover.”

 

Tallis scowled at her.  “What is it about people not using my name? Tallis.  Especially if you are going to talk about battlefield orgasms.  Bull jacks off on the corpse when we kill a dragon.  I just come like a fountain when the damn things fall from the sky.”

 

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, laughter lurking in a tiny quirk of her mouth. “’Tis strange that you concern yourself with what I label you and not with your unseemly response to killing.”

 

Tallis rolled her eyes.  “Please.  Dorian may wait until he can get that super-slick spice-scented salve of his and Varric may wait until he can spill his orgasm with ink onto paper, but they totally get off on fighting and battle.  Hell, Cassie just waits until she can come under a blanket of water and rose-petals.”

 

Laughter spilled from Morrigan’s lips.

 

“Oh, Caputalis, you are more observant and wise than the average mortal.”

 

“According to you and Solas, I suppose.” Tallis concentrated a bit.  “It’s strange.  Now that I know that I should be able to do that, I know exactly how.  I don’t think Mum did, else I would likely have had siblings after Da was killed.”

 

“The Qunari govern their breeding program zealously.  I cannot believe that they instruct their women in such use of their bodies, lest they start muddling bloodlines.”

 

“I figured that they controlled that by only allowing sex with Tamrassans,” said Tallis.  “Of course, Bull could be lying, but if they’re only allowed sex with Tamrassans, on average, female Qunari only ever experience sex with males if they’re chosen for breeding.  No need to harvest.”

 

Morrigan paused.  “I had not quite thought of that.”

 

“I’m not sure if I’m more disturbed or saddened by that.” Tallis grinned.  “All those poor women, denied Bull’s undeniably talented cock.  It’s a travesty.”

 

“I would not have thought that you would advertise such a thing.  He is _your_ lover, after all.”

 

“I don’t own him, Morrigan,” said Tallis.  “Also, I enjoy watching.  If you’re interested in the experience, just ask him.  He knows I don’t mind. Just be aware he’ll give me all the juicy details later, even if I’m there watching the whole thing.”

 

“I… thank you for the offer, but I do not believe that it is necessary.”

 

“Your loss.”  Tallis studied the golden-eyed mage. “He’s got a number of long, thick appendages and remarkable muscular control.”

 

Morrigan’s expression contorted through a few unnamable expressions before settling on neutrality as Tallis began laughing.

 

“As much as I appreciate the anatomy lesson, surely that wasn’t all you had to tell me.”

 

“No.  I also know spells to ensure conception.” Morrigan closed her eyes.  “I have ever regretted that I did not pass this information to Elissa Cousland, who has had such need of it, and I do not know if she could do so now, having been a Grey Warden for so long.  The only price I ask for this is that you ensure that she and Alistair receive it.  It is one of the small magics, the ones of will that any can perform if their will is strong enough.”

 

“You could do so yourself.”

 

“Alistair would not take such from me, were I to write the entire thing out in cheese,” said Morrigan acerbically.  “He does not like me and I grant that he has reason not to.”

 

“All right, all right!” Tallis huffed.  “You know I had plans for the evening.”

 

“And now you may use them to your greatest benefit.”

 

*

 

Bull caught her as she exited the bathing tent that Cullen had thoughtfully set up.

 

“So what were you and the witch talking about for so long?” asked Bull, draping himself along her back and wrapping his arms around her.

 

“The future.” The easiest way to lie to Bull was by using the truth.  “She wanted to know what I was going to do once everything is done.”

 

Bull’s wandering hands stilled.  “The future?”

 

“Yeah, you know, that thing that will hopefully happen after we kick Corey-Porey’s butt past the Fade and right into the Void?  It’s called the future.”

 

“I know what the future is, Kadan.”

 

“I told her I wanted kids.” She could feel Bull’s tension before she pulled away and headed toward their tent. “I mean, I couldn’t very well say ‘Well, that depends on my fighting chance.’”

 

“Kadan,” said Bull as they entered the tent.  She turned and stared at him, his rough, grey-blue skin, gleaming muscle, and the great horns he’d named himself after.

 

“I would, you know.  Have kids with you.  Raise them with you. Grow old with you, or at least die by your side as we kick some deserving fucker’s ass.”  She sighed.  “But you would have to become Tal-Vashoth for real, and you’re too Qunari for that.”

 

“I do love you,” Bull breathed.

 

“I know.” Tallis pulled him toward her with gentle hands.  “I almost wish you didn’t, because then it wouldn’t hurt you so much to think about what’s coming.”

 

“Kadan.  Katoh.”

 

“Bull.  Sufficient unto the day are the troubles thereof.” She lifted herself up on tip-toe and brushed his lips with hers.  “When the time comes, we will do as our natures dictate.  Until then, we will love, yes?”

 

His great, rough hands cradled her face, as though she were a sweet and gentle flower.  His mouth was soft, kiss uncertain and seeking.

 

“Make love with me.” She whispered it against his lips.  “No dominance, no submission.  Share yourself with me.”

 

Bull shuddered, eye closing as he rested his forehead against hers. “Tallis.”

 

“Beloved.”

 

*

 

It took days to fight through the Arbor Wilds to the Temple they sought.  Tallis had thought herself inured to the realities of combat – she had spent long years with her mercenary company and months of unending skirmishes with the Inquisition.  This, however, was a war fought amidst an unnaturally warm jungle in the ass-end of the world.  Blood lay thick on her hands, sweet and tacky, arousing her basest instincts to fuck and fight.

 

For the first time, she understood Bull’s expressed fear of becoming Tal-Vashoth, of becoming less than even an animal, just a monster that lived for the sex and the slaughter.  Her blade became faster; inferno, lightning, and ice flared at her fingertips.  She killed and killed and killed, dancing eagerly with death as she whirled through the battlefield on giddy feet, high on the power and pleasure it gave her.

 

They praised her for it, her soldiers and scouts.  The stared at her with worshipful eyes, seeing her as pure and untarnished, their Herald of Andraste.

 

Their Inquisitor.

 

Their _Savior_.

 

She listened to their stories, to their grateful thanks, and she smiled and smiled and smiled.  Then she went the bathing tent and scrubbed her skin until it bled, fresh and iron-bright.  She scrubbed until Bull came for her, fresh from his own cleansing, grasping her hands and holding them tight against her self punishment.  Each night, he laid her upon their shared bedrolls and held her until she broke, choking on grief and guilt and savage joy, and if his own eye was not dry when her tears were spent, none but the two of them knew it.

 

Only then, when they were more than monsters or animals, could they rock together in the most primal affirmation of life; their touches as gentle as their kisses desperate.


	2. The Petitioner's Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They were great.” Soft and dreamy, Cole’s voice floated to them as he approached the end of the tunnel, words more compelling than sounds of battle and death. “They breached the walls of heaven to find it was something false and foul. A lie that severed them, the world, and brought disharmony. He is here.”

“It’s just one more push,” Tallis panted as the last Red Templar fell before her blade.  “I need to have a chat with Cullen about his use of the word ‘just.’”

 

“We have not been fast enough,” snapped Morrigan.  “We must keep moving.”

 

“Well, shit, your Worship.” Varric looked around.  “You lot go, I’ll wait for Curly and the men here.  If we can hold this position until you’re done, we will.”

 

“I will stay with them,” said Cassandra, her dark eyes hard. “They will not get past us, Inquisitor.”

 

“Will no one call me by name?” wondered Tallis, apropos of nothing.  “We can’t leave you here alone.”

 

“Curly will be here soon.” Varric’s smile was grim.  “And we’ve been doing this a long time now.”

 

“I’ll stay as well,” said Blackwall, limping slightly.  “I’m no use to you if you need to move swift, and the Seeker and I will make them break upon us.”

 

Tallis blinked back tears.

 

“We must go, Caputalis,” said Morrigan.  “We will have the Iron Bull and Pavus and the boy with us.  Surely that will be enough.”

 

“Do not die,” said Tallis.

 

“Nah, don’t worry about us, Herald,” said Varric.  “Curly will be along with Sera and the rest soon enough. Have a little faith.”

 

“You are a menace and a peacocking poltroon, Varric Tethras!” Tallis bent down and kissed him on the forehead before turning and running for the temple.  “None of you are allowed to die.  Remember that.”

 

“Save it for the sequel!”

 

Tallis heard Cassandra’s battle cry as they passed within.

 

“We must be swift,” said Morrigan.  “I fear how far they may have penetrated as we dithered about outside.”

 

“Your words are very sharp, like small vicious knives that hide in the dark.” said Cole, brow furrowing.  “You think they must pierce in order to be heard.  You needn’t hurt us for us to listen to you.”

 

Morrigan opened her mouth and Tallis silenced her with a look.

 

“Do. Not.” Tallis’ voice was hard and clipped.  “Do not ever think to take Cole to task, Morrigan.”

 

“’Tis no effort for me to hold my tongue, _Herald_ , if you do not wish my advice heard.”

 

“Cole is not yours to correct,” said Tallis.  “Cole, what’s up ahead?”

 

“Discord and shame,” said Cole.  “Pain so old it has seeped into him, part-and-not-part, unnoticed, while he watches the world move in a strange, drunken dance.  He does not know the steps and the music is all wrong.  I cannot help him.  He can’t hear me.”

 

“Cole.”

 

“They were great.” Soft and dreamy, Cole’s voice floated to them as he approached the end of the tunnel, words more compelling than sounds of battle and death.  “They breached the walls of heaven to find it was something false and foul. A lie that severed them, the world, and brought disharmony.  He is here.”

 

Caputalis stepped forth onto a landing above what appeared to be a courtyard. There she could see Sampson, Corypheus’ general, in that hated lyrium armor, and a dozen or so men, including one of the Grey Wardens that Corypheus had enthralled.  What held her attention, however, was the great, misshapen form of Corypheus himself, tall and unnatural, twisted by the darkness he had taken into himself when he and his compatriots had assaulted the Golden City.

 

“Are those elves?” asked someone, moving her attention to the defenders that backed away across a long, stone bridge.  “They look like elves, but… not.”

 

Corypheus’ lanky, deformed figure surged forward, grasping one of the defenders and lifting him high.

 

“You _will_ lead me to the Well of Sorrows,” the unnaturally rich and compelling voice rose up to them, edged with rage.  Raw power channeled through Corypheus’ chosen victim, hissing and crackling as it consumed its writhing sacrifice.   “Your resistance is meaningless.”

 

The elves edged backwards, onto the bridge behind them, magic beginning to hum a melody so old Tallis understood it in her bones.

 

“They’re luring them,” said Cole.  “No, they are luring _him_.  The Dark One.  See, there he goes.”

 

Magic swelled and broke, burning Corypheus in actinic vengeance and shattering the men closest to the bridge. The elves ran for the doors on the far side and Sampson, who had been standing well back, rallied his remaining men to give chase.  Tallis gave it little thought, as Corypheus lay still upon the ground, his form charred in to further grotesquerie.

 

“Is he dead?” asked Bull.  “Because I will cheerfully dig a deep, acid-filled hole to drop his shitty carcass in.”

 

“I cannot say,” said Morrigan, going down the stairs.  “’Tis clear that his general feels the need to continue on their journey to discover this Well of Sorrows.”

 

“Keep moving,” said Tallis.  “If nothing else, we have to prevent Sampson from taking over where Corypheus has left off.”

 

They trod carefully through the corpses, taking note of each before heading toward the bridge.

 

“It seems that the defenses of this space were adequate enough for our enemy,” said Morrigan.  “It seems a bit anticlimactic.”

 

Behind her, the body of the Grey Warden gave a violent twitch, flailing as it vomited up dark blood and viscera.

 

“What the hell?” Tallis took a step backward, then another as the corpse rose, twisting in brutal transformation. “Morrigan, _run.”_

 

Morrigan glanced back, mouth dropping as Corypheus’ true form burst forth in a gout of gore, the ancient magister’s baleful gaze falling upon them.  Bull, Dorian, and Cole needed no further instruction, sprinting across the bridge.

 

Morrigan seemed transfixed.  Tallis turned back, long legs taking her to Morrigan’s side.  “Damn you, witch.  RUN!”

 

“’Tis impossible!” whispered Morrigan as Tallis grabbed her arm.  “How –”

 

Tallis ignored her, sprinting for the open doors at the far end of the bridge.  Corypheus moved slowly, with an awkward glide, though Tallis wouldn’t bet he was unable to run.  Morrigan stumbled, almost bringing them both down before catching her stride.

 

“Dragon!”

 

“Oh, fuck me.” Tallis risked a glance back, and could see the dark form gaining on them with unnatural speed.  They tumbled through the open gates as the dragon dove for them, Bull and the others managing to shove the doors closed on a gout of corrupted flame.

 

“What,” asked Dorian in his most aristocratic tones, “was _that?”_

 

“I have no idea,” said Morrigan, ashen-pale.  “’Twas similar to the power of an Archdemon, whose soul may migrate to the closest blighted being upon death and resurrect itself – provided that said being is not a Warden.  Yet, he migrated _to_ a Warden, which should not have been possible.”

 

“Can we discuss this later?  Ideally when it’s safe to have a screaming panic attack?  Sampson and his men are here.”

 

Dorian barked a laugh.  “First things first, eh, my Lady?”

 

“Ever and always.”

 

“Then let us proceed.” Morrigan straightened her shoulders and headed down the wide passage.  Bull, who would normally have taken point, held back a moment, drawing Tallis to the side.

 

“Best be careful, Boss.” His eyes tracked Morrigan’s movements.  “She’s up to more than just fighting Corypheus.”

 

“I know.”  Tallis sighed.  “I trust Morrigan to be Morrigan, Bull.  Much like I trust you to be you.”

 

He stiffened slightly.

 

“If she can gain power, she will.  If she can plumb the secrets of this place, _she will_.  I’m not an idiot.  But Morrigan and her son live in this world, too, Bull, and she’ll allow no harm to come to him while she breathes.  Call it… enlightened self-interest.”

 

“I suppose so, Boss.”  Bull scratched the back of his neck.  “Just… be careful.”

 

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tallis had some cause to regret her promise when Morrigan pulled her aside.

 

“You must walk the penitent’s path, Inquisitor.” Morrigan’s eyes were wide and pensive.  “’Tis most clear that this temple has avid defenders and it never wise to fight a battle on multiple fronts.  We may be able to gain the assistance of the temple’s residents if we honor their ways.”

 

Tallis frowned.  “Right.  What else?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You have pushed us for greater speed since we entered the temple, Morrigan.  So.  What. Else.”

 

“My… translation of the column in the courtyard may have been somewhat… incomplete.”  Morrigan bit her lip, eyes narrow in consideration.  “It does not tell us what the Well of Sorrows _is_ but it is clearly a source of knowledge, and possibly of power.  We are far more likely to be able to access it if the proper forms are taken.”

 

“And far better that _I_ walk the path to power than you?”

 

“You are the one in need of the power to defeat Corypheus, are you not?” Morrigan smirked.  “But, no, Inquisitor, it is that you are far more earnest than I and more likely to convince the Well’s protectors that you are in honest need of the Well’s power.”

 

Tallis narrowed her eyes at Morrigan.  Sly cunning curved Morrigan’s lips and golden eyes flashed with the certainty of superiority.

 

“I see.  And when we reach the Well itself?”

 

“Is it not obvious?  We will partake of the Well’s gift and defeat Corypheus.”

 

“We?”

 

“Of course.  I would hardly allow you to make such a sacrifice for knowledge by yourself.”

 

“Sacrifice?”

 

Morrigan waved a hand.  “There is no need for concern.  Some service or some such may be owed to Mythal – a dead goddess – but what care can we have of that?  Mythal, whatever she may have been, is long gone, and hardly able to call us to service.”

 

“You are remarkably cavalier about it.”

 

“Does it matter?  We must not allow Corypheus access, regardless of the sacrifices that might be called for.”

 

“Fine.  I would’ve agreed to act as a supplicant anyway.” Morrigan raised an eyebrow at her.  “We have desecrated so much in our quest to gather sufficient power to confront him.  Sanctifying it for once, well, I can go along with that.”

 

“Then come – I think the first ritual chamber is likely this way.”

 

Morrigan walked off at a brisk pace and Tallis closed her eyes, trying to massage away her growing headache.

 

“She is wrong.”  Cole appeared beside her, clutching his ridiculous, floppy hat.  “The sacrifice is real.”

 

“Can you feel it?”

 

“The Well sings, but its pain is well worn, soft and comfortable like your mother’s quilt.  It envelops without constricting and waits to be used.”

 

“Do you know what the sacrifice is?”

 

He looked up at her, his pale eyes reflective of an unseen sky.  “You’ve already made it.  The Well would ask no more of you.”

 

“And of Morrigan?”

 

He shook his head.  “She will know when her time comes.”

 

“Inquisitor – I believe I have identified the first task.”

 

“Right then!”

 

Cole smiled slightly and took her hand.  “Come.  Don’t be afraid.  They’re waiting for you.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The ones who wait.”

 

Tallis gave it up as a bad job.  Getting information out of Cole was a bit like shoving one’s hand in a tub filled with a thousand multi-colored fish, hoping to catch the red one.  On average you ended up with a handful of water and fish-piss. When you did snag a fish, while it was always interesting, on average it wasn’t quite the fish you were looking for.

 

She let Cole lead her to the first ritual altar – or ritual dance floor, it wasn’t really clear which – and closed her eyes, letting herself feel the flow of magic around and through her.  Her feet moved of their own accord as she fell into ritual trance, letting the magic move her, body and mind.  It was a dance, slow and solemn, leading from one space to the next as the unseen asked questions in a language she did not know, but understood anyway.

 

**Who are you?**

 

_Caputalis Adaar_

 

**What are you?**

 

_The Inquisitor, the Leader of the Inquisition._

 

**What do you value?**

 

_The World. My friends.  My cause.  My lover._

 

**What are you?**

 

_Kossith. A woman. A mage._

 

**What do you regret?**

 

_The blood I spill. The people I sacrifice. The evil I have done._

 

**What are you?**

 

_A killer. A judge.  A symbol._

 

**Why are you here?**

 

_To oppose Corypheus of Tevinter, that which would swallow the world._

 

**What are you?**

 

_A daughter that serves the world._

 

_A weapon._

_An anchor._

 

**We are in need of such.**

 

_What are you?_

 

**Those who wait.**

 

Serenity enveloped her like a great blanket, even as urgency fizzed through her blood.  Tallis opened her eyes, finding herself in a completely different room, on her knees before a statue of Fen’Harel.  Confused, she stood and turned to find Cole standing beside her, bright with curiosity.

 

“Your eyes,” he said.  “They’re very pretty.”

 

“What?” She let him steady her as she glanced over at Morrigan.

 

“That, well, ‘tis most unexpected.”

 

“What?”

 

“Your eyes are green, boss.” Bull swayed uneasily from side to side, shifting his feet like a toddler.  “Fade-green, like the anchor.”

 

“Huh.” She walked off the ritual space, feeling the energy of it blaze behind her in a conflagration.  The moment her foot touched stone, the inferno of power shifted, flowing toward the sealed door in the antechamber before racing beyond. “Well, that’s disconcerting.”

 

“Just a little bit, boss.”

 

“Why do you never call her by name?”

 

“We can discuss it later, Cole,” said Bull.

 

“Bull calls so few people by name, Cole, that you might be able to count them on the hands of an armless man.”

 

“Dorian.” Tallis glared at him.  “It couldn’t be an armless man, since Bull calls Krem ‘Krem’.”

 

“You are correct, fair lady.  So, he could count them on the fingers of a one-armed man.”

 

“You are terrible.”

 

“I think you will find that it is ‘we’ that are terrible, my dear Tallis.” Dorian grinned at her.  “But since we are also beautiful and amazingly talented, much of the world will forgive us our little quirks.”

 

Tallis walked past him, mussing his hair. “Right.”

 

“There was no call for that, madame.”

 

“This is no time to dally, Pavus.” said Morrigan.  “We _must_ get to this Well of Sorrows.”

 

“Must you?” The rich, cultured voice came from ahead of them.  “You and your kind invade this Temple, seeking its power and its wealth, like all looters and vandals before you.  Yet one of you sought the path of the Supplicant, honoring our ways.  For that reason only am I willing to hear your petition rather than slay you where you stand.”

 

They were surrounded by the strange-seeming elves of this place: taller, more lithe, and more palpably powerful than any Tallis has ever met.  Before them was an altar on a raised dais, where the speaker stood, as golden-eyed as Morrigan and as formidable.

 

“Abelas,” sighed Tallis, not knowing where the word or name came from.  “We came not to invade, but to protect.  A dark and powerful being that calls itself Corypheus wishes to plunder this temple of its power, that he might use it to destroy the world and reassemble it in his own image.  He is of the Tevinter Imperium of old, that conquered the elves of old.”

 

The figure laughed bitterly.  “Conquered us?  Only in the sense that a crow conquers the carrion it feeds on.  We had long since rotted from within.  All that is left is this temple and what we guard. What care we for the travails of the outside world?  Let this Corypheus burn its insignificance to the ground.  We wake only to fight and each time find the world irrevocably changed.”

 

Tallis stepped forward, ignoring Dorian’s startled mutterings and knelt in a foreign obeisance.  “Abelas, I beg you, please.  You do not know the power that Corypheus commands, nor how much life he is willing to spend to take what he wishes.  If you will not allow me the path of the supplicant, at least allow me to defend the Well from those who would desecrate it.”

 

“You are… sincere,” said the figure.  “That you name me proves you to be a Supplicant as true as any who have walked the Petitioner’s Path.  You would defend the Well even without the promise of its power.”

 

“Inquisitor, we may well need the power of this Well of Sorrows,” said Morrigan.  “We _must_ be permitted its use, if for no other reason that there may be no other way to protect and preserve it.”

 

Abelas turned, his golden, preadator’s eyes locking on Morrigan’s.

 

“I will permit no desecration of the Well – I will destroy it myself before that happens.  But I welcome hands to defend it.  We grow few, and there are none to replace us when we fall.”

 

“Fool!  What you have is already lost!” In a flash, Morrigan transformed into a raven and flew off.

 

“Morrigan! No –” She sighed.  “He only forbade desecration! Damn her.  So we have to stop her, too.  Fantastic.”

 

“She will not find it easy to make her way to the Well, as she does not know the path,” said Abelas.  “I will go ahead with my men and clear the way.  Our lorekeeper will take you through the Supplicant’s Path, that you may complete your journey.   It should bypass many of the invaders.  Mythal willing, we will meet you at the Well.”

 

“I understand,” said Tallis.

 

“I don’t,” said Bull.

 

“The open path must be trodden,” said Cole. “It waits, crumbling at the edges to feed the Void.  So much lost. A stranger’s face, yet known, familiar. There must be hands for the bare flame.”

 

* * *

 

An ancient elf – which is strange to think, given that all of these elves are _ancient_ – shuffled forward, bound to a tome so heavy it bends him or her into a stoop.  They follow, hearing the sounds of fighting all around them.  The strange serenity of the Path intensified, giving Tallis a strange and sharp-edged lucidity.  The scent of violence and death fizzed and popped in her blood, demanding action, yet she did not so much as touch the hilt of her spirit blade.  Instead, she sank further into clarity as her feet took her through ancient ritual.

 

It was like opening her eyes.

 

The world was sharper, clearer, and so much more complete.  She could see spirits of Valor, of Justice, and of Faith, all flocking to the defenders and giving them strength, and she could see the darker shadows the spirits cast, the suggestions of what they might become – Fear, Vengeance, Treachery.

 

They passed through the final doors entering what seemed to be a beautiful, natural grotto filled with terraced hotsprings. The highest one, near the farthest wall of the cave shone with such power it nearly blinded Tallis.  She looked away, only to see Samson and his men celebrating the brutal slaying of the last, visible defender.  She snarled, low and feral.

 

“You are _such_ an asshole.”

 

“Inquisitor,” Samson stared at her, blood-red eyes bright with vicious joviality.  His armor was inlaid with thick crystals of blighted lyrium. “I was wondering when you’d get here.  You’ve been such a thorn in my Master’s side.  I’ll be right glad to pluck you out.”

 

“Fuck off.” Tallis reached into a pocket and withdrew a thin, shining tile, tumbling it through her fingers like a coin.  “I’d ask why you follow an insane, world-destroying _talking darkspawn_ but honestly, I don’t give a fuck you sick, sadistic prick.”

 

“You’re just a pathetic, power-grubbing little cunt, whoring yourself out to Cullen and his useless _Inquisition_.”

 

“Useless, eh?” She snapped the tile between her fingers, causing the lyrium in is armor to shatter to dust.

 

“What have you _done?”_ Sampson’s scream was immensely satisfying.

 

“Pulling your teeth, pissbucket.” She grinned at him, sharp and wild.  “A little combat dentistry, compliments of the Inquisition.  What’re going to do about it?  _Gum_ me to death?”

 

Beside her, Bull roared a challenge.  Tallis laughed, glorying as the first gout of blood sprayed her when Bull decapitated one of Sampson’s men.  She licked her lips, showing Coreypheus’ pawn bloodied teeth as she swept forward, spirit-sword bright with righteous anger and frenzied bloodlust.

 

“Good _bye_ , asshole.”

 

The fight was short, brutal, and glorious.  She had no reason to hold back against Sampson, who caused Cullen so much grief and so much guilt.  He planted that fucking red stone in helpless civilians and harvested the lyrium when it consumed them.  He let his men commit atrocities and paved the way for an evil greater than any fucking archdemon.

 

Tallis hated him, more than she has ever hated anyone including Corypheus and the Triumvirate of the Qun.  Slaughtering his men and beating Sampson down was a brutal, guilt-free pleasure.  She didn’t bother to hide it when she came, hard, as she slowly slid her spirit-blade through his guts.

 

“Qunari _whore._ ” Sampson coughed up blood. “Monster.”

 

“Flatter me some more, you pustulent shit.” She licked his blood from her hand, getting the faintest jolt from the lyrium in his blood.  “You’ll live if Cullen gets here soon enough.  He still loves you as one of his brothers, Maker fucking knows why.  He’ll save you if he can.  He’ll ask me to spare you.”

 

She laughed.

 

“You…” Sampson gasped, the faintest gurgle bubbling in his lungs. “You believe in redemption.”

 

“Do I?” Tallis stared down at him.  “You probably shouldn’t bet on that.”


	3. Glory, Glory, Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Corypheus' shit up will *never* get old.

Sampson fell unconscious.

 

“And if Corypheus gets here first?” asked Dorian, apparently unperturbed by any of it, dark eyes still flashing with battle-rage.

 

“Cross that bridge if we get to it.” Tallis looked up.  “We’ve other things to deal with now.”

 

High upon the Well’s ledge, they could see Morrigan battling with Abelas.

 

“When did she get here?”

 

“Just in time to keep him dying with his men, Boss.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll thank us for that.”  Tallis broke into a run, ascending the path to the Well with all the speed she could muster.

 

“Morrigan!  Stop!”

 

“You heard him!  He would destroy it rather than see it used or preserved!” Morrigan flung out another spell that Tallis countered.  Dorian threw a shimmering barrier around the elf as Tallis summoned her blade, effortlessly holding it to Morrigan’s throat.

 

“Do not force me to make your child and orphan, Morrigan.”  Tallis’ battle-lust had faded, leaving her feeling hollow.  “We are not here to desecrate the Well.”

 

“So you have proved.” The golden-eyed elf stared at Tallis, unblinking.  “Yet it cannot be saved from the outside world.  Even now my brethren fall, as do yours, in what may be a useless defense of what remains of the wisdom of my people.”

 

“Can it be moved?”

 

“Inquisitor –”

 

Tallis raised a hand, silencing Morrigan.  “If your interest is in preserving the old magics then perhaps we should ask about the possibility.”

 

“Inquisitor, it is almost certainly the key to the Eluvian –”

 

“And it’s obvious, since there are others that are _broken,_ that denying the _Eluvian_ to Corypheus will only take a rock.”

 

Morrigan stared at her, horrified.  “You cannot think to _destroy_ it.”

 

“You are not what I had expected, Supplicant.  Know this, then.  The Well is our memory, memory collected from each of us as we approached our ends.  There is no way to know what it would do to you, who are not of our people and untrained in our ways.” Abelas shrugged eloquently.  “You have completed the Petitioner’s Path and have the right to commune with the Well if you wish.”

 

“And the price?” asked Tallis.  “The sacrifice?”

 

“Service to Mythal, until release.”

 

“What is there to fear in that?” mocked Morrigan.  “Service to a dead god must be little enough on any given year.”

 

“Think what you wish,” Abelas dismissed Morrigan’s words with a flick of his fingers.  “The choice of what to do with it is yours, Supplicant.  It is clear that the will of Mythal is with _you_.”

 

“Mythal, Andraste, next you will be the savior of Koslun.”

 

“Oh, do shut up, Morrigan.  Your jealousy is unbecoming.” said Dorian. “Tallis, he is right – we know that Corypheus is here and coming.  What are you going to do?”

 

“Can the power of the Well be protected or transferred?”

 

“Yes, if one can be found to bear our Sorrow.”

 

Morrigan sniffed.  “Yet you do not choose to do so.”

 

“It is not a task that is mine to bear,” the elf snapped back.  “Nor would you do so for all your posturing.  Drink if you must and pay the price.”

 

Morrigan stepped back, eyes wide.

 

“Go ahead and drink,” said Tallis. “We need an edge against Corypheus.  Dorian –”

 

“Tempting as it is, I think it might be just a bit inappropriate.” Dorian gave an ironic little bow. “Tevinter mage and all that rot.  Imagine the outcry.”

 

“Bull?”

 

“Kadan.” She saw him consider it, eye narrowed in calculation.  “No.  It just seems like a bad idea.”

 

Cole just shook his head at her.

 

“Very well, then.  If I can, I’ll bear the Sorrow back and find a new place for it to be preserved.”

 

Morrigan knelt to drink from the spring.  Her cupped hands touched the clear, shimmering water with something like awe and respect.

 

“It seems… disrespectful,” the golden-eyed witch said at last, hesitating before bringing her cupped hands to her lips.

 

“A little late to worry about that now, don’t you think?”

 

“Perhaps so.” Morrigan brought the water to her lips, taking a long, slow draught.  Her eyes fluttered and a high, breathy moan escaped her. The elegant line of her back arched, pain and pleasure writ large in the roll of her hips and small, sobbing cries.  Bull dropped a hand on Tallis’ shoulder as they watched Morrigan shudder her way through the sweep of power.

 

“Are you sure about this, Boss?”

 

“No,” she told Bull cheerfully.  “But I’m going to do it anyway.  What do I need to do?”

 

“Immerse yourself in the waters and come back out.”

 

“Sounds simple, so it must be complicated.”

 

Cole laughed softly.  “Sorrow for sorrow, the breaking burden, her shoulders are broad enough.  He seeks a new name.”

 

The elf slanted Cole a narrow-eyed look but Tallis merely shrugged.

 

The pool did not look all that deep.  She stepped into it. Despite the small eddies of steam upon its surface, it was as cold as grief.  Sorrow was no mystery to her.  She sank into that chill embrace, the waters closing over her head, and drew it all in.  Thousands of lives, years, voices – wise and foolhardy, steadfast and craven spoke to her, showing her a world immersed in the Fade, not divorced from it.

 

The power sank into her, following the well-worn paths of guilt and regret, shame and tarnished pleasure, yet it was not a thing of unalloyed grief.  The wisdom of a long gone race was not a thing without joy.  It settled within her, a well-contented cat with well sharpened claws kneading its new resting place into comfort.

 

Tallis opened her eyes, expecting the sting of water, only to find the gleaming shades of those who had passed from here to their final rest.

 

**Take us to the Place that Holds Back the Sky.**

 

_Who are you?_

 

**We are Those who Wait.  It is time, Inquisitor.  Your enemy approaches.**

 

Tallis kicked upward, borne forth by the power of the Well.  She broke the surface like the ball of a Qunari cannon, flying high only to float in a tower of shining light.  Below her Morrigan began shouting and pointing toward the Eluvian, but her attention was captured by Corypheus and the corruption that trailed from him like acid.  She saw the moment when he realized that the power of the Well was denied him and Tallis laughed, low and savage.

 

“Morrigan! Open the Eluvian, I will hold him off.”

 

Corypheus roared his outrage as she sent a spear of sanctified ice through his chest, following it with a storm of lightning.

 

The mirror shimmered open, Bull and Dorian immediately running through.  Abelas readied his bow, but Cole stopped him, pointing toward their escape.  Tallis dropped a barrier around them as Morrigan darted through the shining surface of the Eluvian.  She used the power of the well to surge forward, summoning her spirit blade to the fore.

 

“GO!  I will not falter.” Red lightning danced around them.  “Run, damn you!”

 

Cole and Abelas broke for the mirror as Tallis slashed at Corypheus, her sword catching him deep across the ribs. He retreated, tossing a ball of fire that she countered effortlessly. She heard the Eluvian humming behind her, the stored power of thousands of years coming eagerly to her fingertips, and threw herself at Corypheus, certain of her victory.

 

She was the Bearer of Sorrow and in this place and at this time she was practically invincible.

 

It was better than fighting Sampson, better than fighting dragons – she was flame and stone and force and blade.  Tallis played with him, pouncing Corypheus with a rain of slashing blows, then forcing him to give chase and expend his strength on spells that fizzled out before they could touch her.  She heard the dragon outside scream, a panicked shriek as she froze the utterly drained magister solid and took his head, shattering his grotesque body in a fountain of ice and gore.

 

With a gesture she closed the Eluvian and locked it, descending from the Well wreathed in power.

 

“He’ll be back.”  Sampson lay barely conscious in a slowly widening pool of blood, but still glared up at her with bitter eyes.  “You haven’t won.”

 

“Try for something I don’t know next time.” There was a clamor at the entryway, a small handful of bloodied elves coming through with Cullen and the rest on their heels. “Ah, thy savior awaits.”

 

“Lady Inquisitor, the dragon has fled the field and our forces are currently mopping up.  We saw your fight.”  Cullen came forward. “By the Maker, is that Sampson?”

 

“Present for you, if you want it,” said Tallis.  “It’s leaking a little, but still breathing.”

 

Cullen knelt, pulling a healing potion from his belt. “We cannot just leave him here.”

 

“I could take his head,” Tallis offered. “Quick death and all.  Appropriate, too.”

 

Cullen frowned, reproachful.

 

“I told him you’d save him.  I don’t think he believed me.”

 

“Where are the others?” asked Cassandra.

 

“Morrigan took them through the Eluvian.  I presume that they’re at Skyhold.”

 

“She took them, and not you?”

 

“I was a little busy at the time.” Tallis gestured at Corypheus’ corpse, still vibrating from the vicious joy of it. “It’s not permanent, which is nugshit, but since it was the second time he died today, it’s my hope that it’ll take him at least a small while to recover.”

 

“You killed him?”

 

“Second time _today?”_

 

“The temple’s defenders did a thorough job frying Corey-Porey’s disfigured ass to char.  Unfortunately, he’s got an archdemony soul migration thing going on.  Have warden, will continue to travel.”

 

Everyone blanched.

 

“That is the real reason for subverting the Wardens, then?”

 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he wanted an army of demons, but immortality so long as he has a supply of them?  Sounds like he’d find that a sweet, sweet deal.”

 

“That’s… extremely unfortunate.”

 

Tallis sighed and patted Cullen on the cheek.  “I’ve an idea of what we need to do, Commander.”

 

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Varric.  “I’m not sure I’m up for immortal darkspawn magister.”

 

Tallis waved to a familiar face up on the landing and raised her voice.

 

“Captain Rylen – please finish the cleanup.  I’m taking this lot back to Skyhold through the Eluvian.” She looked down at Sampson.  “I’m not going to risk taking this asshole through, though.  There’s no telling if Corypheus could use him in some way.”

 

“Right.” Rylen pushed his way forward.  “That was a righteous duel, if I may say so, Lady Inquisitor.  Glad I am to have seen it, even if that evil bugger still got away.”

 

“He’s a cheating cheater who cheats.  Just make sure that everyone _knows_ that, because it’s not over yet.” Rylen nodded.   Tallis turned.  “Solas – can you communicate with these elves?  Abelas went with Morrigan and that lot.  I’d prefer it if they were willing to return to Skyhold with us, as we can’t be sure how long it will be before we can ensure that the Temple is secure, provided that they want to stay, since what they guard is… in the process of finding a new home.”

 

“I can.” Solas narrowed his eyes at her.  “Inquisitor…”

 

“Not right now,” she said quietly.  “I need to burn off some energy and get cleaned up before we debrief. Believe me, I have questions.”

 

Solas nodded and moved over to the other Elves.

 

“You doin’ all right, your Worship?”  Varric smirked at her.  Tallis flipped him off.

 

“Just… a bit keyed up.”

 

“I’ll say.  It looked like you were having fun, what with the blood and the obscenities.”

 

“Ass.” Tallis laughed, dark edged and shaking.  “Oh, by Koslun’s sweaty asscrack, it was glorious, Varric. Glor-i-ous.  Fucking his shit up would never, _ever_ get old. I want to rip his heart out and turn it to paste.  Or daisies.  Or possibly nugshit, because, why not?”

 

“Don’t worry about it, your Inquisitorialness.  I’ve got no doubt that you’ll get another chance.” Blue eyes twinkled slyly.  “In the meantime, have you considered getting laid?”


	4. The Calm Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we always debrief this way?

If there was one thing the Arbor Wilds had lacked – aside from flushing toilets, artisan bread, and true privacy – it had been convenient walls to be fucked against.  Tallis had barely made it out of her armor before Bull shoved her back into a wall, mouth ravenous against hers.

 

“You didn’t follow us through,” the gravel of his voice tumbled against her neck like river stones, and she filled the space between them with blood-soaked laughter.

 

“I disassembled that bastard to the _ground_.”  Her hands worked quickly, unlacing Bull’s breeches and pulling his cock roughly from pre-cum drenched smalls.  “He looked so surprised at true opposition.  It was grand.”

 

Bull wrapped a hand around her wrists, pushing them high up against the wall behind her as the other wormed its way between her willing thighs.  _“Kadan._   You are so fucking wet.  You let yourself come when you killed him.”

 

“Taarsidath-an halsaam,” she told him haughtily, “Though if you don’t fuck me, _right now,_ I’ll just watchword and touch myself up in the big, comfy bed over there.  I’ve got toys bigger’n you and I do know how to use them.”

 

Bull grunted a laugh as she wrapped her legs around him, sinking deep and thick and _perfect_ into her. Tallis threw her head back, breath hissing out of her in a long susurrus of approval and pleasure.

 

“You want a fucking, Kadan?” His hips flexed against hers, grinding just right.  “I want a story.”

 

Tallis pulled against the hand holding her wrists to the wall as she writhed on his cock.  “Bull.”

 

“Tell me about it,” another thrust, “every spell,” a roll of hips, “every blow.”  He bit her earlobe as she shuddered against him.  “And don’t come until _he’s dead.”_

 

“Fuck,” she turned her head and caught his lips, biting and feral.  “Can we debrief like this all the time?”

 

Bull’s laughter vibrated through her whole body.

 

“Story, _Kadan,_ or I’ll leave you to your toys.”

 

She clenched down, hard, smirking as he shuddered.  “You sure about that?”

 

 _“Kadan,_ tell me.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Please.”

 

She did.

 

*

 

The second debriefing involved less pleasure and a much larger audience.  Tallis commandeered one of the larger rooms in the Keep, ordering the fireplace cleaned and lit and a variety of comfortable chairs, benches and pillows brought in for informal seating.  Josephine wrinkled her nose when Tallis told her to show up in casual garb, but Leliana laughed.

 

“An informal celebration, no?  We make it look like a diversion, our heroes taking a moment to celebrate their great victory.  I like it and will bring the liquid refreshment.”  The red-head’s impish smile actually reached her normally chill blue eyes.  “I expect to find _someone’s_ smallclothes tacked to the chantry board.”

 

“I dare you to get Vivienne’s,” was all Tallis said, making Josephine choke in stifled laughter.  “I’m asking the kitchens for finger food and booze, but Sister Nightingale’s Nighty-Night punch _would_ be a welcome addition.”

 

Evening found them clustered around the fire, eating and telling one another outrageous tales to laughter and squawks of scandalized indignation.  Vivienne, much to Tallis’ amusement, stretched out in front of the cheerful blaze, as elegant in repose as any cat.  Cullen sat on the floor, back resting against the plush armchair Dorian displayed himself upon, all sinuous bronze curves and boneless grace.  Cassandra and Josephine – Cassie and Josie for the night – curled up together on a love seat.  The full length of Cassie’s hair was down in thick, luxurious waves that Josie couldn’t seem to stop playing with.  Sera and Blackwall each sat with a view of the almost-erotic sight, seemingly transfixed by the slow play of firelight on hair and silk and skin.

 

Cole and Varric settled themselves near the fire, the Dwarf quietly answering Cole’s questions and encouraging the spirit’s engagement with the group.  Solas, to no one’s surprise, seated himself at a small distance, more observing than participating.  Morrigan and Leliana arrived together in a splash of comfortable animosity.  Behind them came a pair of servants laboring under the weight of an enormous cut-glass punch bowl filled with a fragrant – and possibly lethal – orange-red liquid.

 

“Sister Nightingale’s Nighty-Night Punch, as requested, Inquisitor.”  The bowl was placed on the sideboard and the servants hurried off with Leliana’s gracious thanks.

 

“Excellent!”

 

Tallis grunted as Bull shoved her off of his lap, shamming a distressed fall into a graceless heap.

 

“You better bring me a mug!” she called after him, sitting up.  Morrigan rolled her eyes and took up a place near the fire, curling into a watchful pose.

 

“We have ensured that we will not be overheard, Inquisitor.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Morrigan.  I have a name.”  She took the mug Bull handed over, leaning into him as he settled himself on the floor next to her.  “We’re about to save the goddamn world, I think the least we can do is call one another by name.”

 

“I shall take that under advisement.”

 

Tallis flicked her off, much to Varric’s amusement.

 

“Right, so now we come to the truly fun part of the evening.  The Temple of Mythal.”

 

“Hold on a moment, your Worship, I think I may need some liquid courage for this.” Varric headed over to the sideboard.

 

“A fair assessment, dear Varric.  Bring me a cup?” Dorian waved a languid hand.  “I do believe that my intestinal fortitude may fail without proper reinforcement.”

 

“Oh, Maker.”  Cullen levered himself up.  “I’ll get it Varric, after all, I think I may want my own.  Ladies?”

 

“Oh, yes, please.” Josephine looked up from where she was braiding Cassandra’s hair, much to the Seeker’s purring pleasure.  “I should like a glass.”

 

“None for me, dear.” Vivienne sat up with a leisurely stretch, arching her back until her head almost brushed the floor.  Sera and Bull both followed the movement with their eyes, lingering avidly on the displayed swell of the knight-enchanter’s breasts.  “But if you would consent to bring me a glass of the Antivan Red, I would be most appreciative.”

 

Between the two of them, the dwarf and man distributed the requested refreshments.

 

“Right, then.” Cullen settled himself back down nest to Dorian and lifted his cup in salute.  “Tell us what you learned, Tallis.”

 

Tallis nodded and laid it out, from the moment Corypheus died at the hands of Abelas’ elves to instant she took his head before the Well.  When she finished, everyone took a deep, steadying drink – even Cole.

 

“So,” said Leliana, “What you are saying is that we cannot defeat him so long as he has Wardens to migrate to?”

 

Morrigan _tsked_ sharply.  “Not so.  You forget that we have the knowledge that Corypheus sought from the Temple.”

 

“You speak of the Well.” Leliana frowned at Morrigan.  “Somehow I doubt that you were any more reverent of Mythal than you were of the Ashes.”

 

Morrigan winced faintly.

 

“You know me well, Leliana.  Tell me, do I lie when I speak?”

 

“No.  I have never known you to lie _directly,_ ” said Leliana.  “By omission?  Certainly.  And you are rarely free with all that you know.  But we can trust what you say to the letter of it.”

 

“As though you are any more direct,” Morrigan retorted without heat. “But you _can_ trust me when I say this:  He can be defeated.  The wisdom held by the well is great and the knowledge is vast.”

 

“Morrigan is right.”  Everyone looked at Tallis.  “When I fought him yesterday, he had been weakened by his earlier death.  The migration is no small feat and one that requires a significant expenditure of energy.  I forced him to expend even more power against me – that’s what you saw, Varric, in the whole obscenities and blood.  I needed him enraged enough to fight instead of escape.”

 

“So what happened when he died?”

 

“His soul hitched a ride with his dragon and he skedaddled out of there.”

 

“I had wondered,” said Morrigan.  “The dragon – his pseudo-archdemon – is the secret to his apparent immortality.  I am unsure, as we have not been able to examine it with any depth, whether it is a true-dragon that he corrupted or if it is purely a construct of his soul.  Either way, it acts as a tether to this world, so Corypheus cannot cross through the fade.  With the dragon dead – or destroyed – it would be possible to push his soul into true death, instead of allowing it to migrate to the next Grey Warden he comes across.”

 

Varric stared at the two of them, frowning.  “How long has he had this dragon?”

 

“I am not certain there’s a way to tell,” said Morrigan.  “Why?”

 

“Because when Hawke and I thought we’d killed him – and he was as dead then as after her Worship got through with him – he migrated into Larius without us noticing.  Did he have the dragon then?”

 

“Well,” said Dorian briskly.  “You can certainly rock me to sleep tonight.  After all, not only did he migrate to this Larius, he maintained Larius’ form long enough to fool yon Dwarf’s paramour.  It makes one wonder if there are other such Magisters wandering the world even now.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up, sparkler.  I know you’re partial to blonds and _very_ clever with them if you can get them into bed, but I’m a one crossbow kind of dwarf.”

 

Cullen inexplicably blushed bright red and Tallis raised a brow at Dorian, who flushed fetchingly.

 

“Oh, that’s too cute,” said Bull.  “I think you might have called it, Boss.”

 

“Bull, you know I didn’t put any money in the betting pool.” She mock-glared at her Commander.  “I don’t even want to know who won, or how much, or I might be cross about staying out of Skyhold’s illicit gambling.”

 

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.  “Really, it’s a much more riveting discussion than my – our – romantic life.”

 

“Oh, no, Commander,” said Leliana.  “We are far more interested in you and Dorian, but duty does call.”

 

“Indeed.” Morrigan leaned back.  “Pavus’ amorous pursuits are riveting, I’m sure.”

 

Cullen groaned.

 

“So, is he kinky?” asked Bull.  “I mean, it’s already perverse, what with the mage-and-templar thing.”

 

Tallis jabbed her elbow into him.  “ _Bas Saarebas,_ right here.”

 

“Well, you’re kinky, too.”

 

“Bound in clarity,” said Cole. “He sees the rope and only finds freedom.”

 

Cullen drained his mug and stood.  “Right, then.”

 

“Cole, what have I said about sex-stuff?”

 

“Not to say it, Varric,” said Cole as Cullen headed for the sideboard.  “But it’s not about sex, not to him.”

 

Sera sniggered.

 

“Cole,” Solas’ voice was kind.  “It is about intimacy and as such not yours to reveal to others.”

 

Cole’s head tilted in owlish curiosity, unblinking eyes staring at something beyond Solas.

 

“Not a secret, just private, just for them. A sweetness shared between them,” Cole’s voice drifted dreamily.  “Oh, I see.  It’s like my hat.  It’s mine, not a thing to share, or be given away by others.”

 

Dorian covered his face with his hand.  “Yes, of course.  Our relationship is very much like your hat, Cole.  A deeply personal thing that shouldn’t be shared without our permission.”

 

Tallis watched Cullen approach Dorian as he spoke and had to laugh as the Commander stopped, drained his mug again and went back to the punch bowl.

 

“Oh, enough,” she said and several people groaned in disappointment.  “I think we’ll have to leave the notion of other darkspawn magisters hiding in plain sight for another day.  We’ve enough to deal with, what with the one we can identify.”

 

“Right.” Cullen wobbled a bit, but managed to sit down without falling.  “So we just need to take out his dragon-archdemon-soul repository-pet-thing.  Sounds like fun.”

 

“It’s a good thing you’ve had us slaying dragons, Boss.” Bull pulled lightly on Tallis’ hair, forcing her to look up.  “We got it down to an art.”

 

“Complete with fetishist,” said Cassie in her distinctly disgusted tone.

 

“If you don’t think I know what you had commissioned from your share of the dragon bone –”

 

“That’s a sex thing,” protested Cole.  “Why does he get to share sex things when I don’t?”

 

“He doesn’t,” snapped Cassandra, flushing a brilliant red. “He wishes to cause me discomfort, so he ignores the lack of propriety in his words.”

 

Tallis twisted, narrowing her eyes at Cassie.  “You started it, he finished it.”

 

“If he didn’t –”

 

“Just stop.” Tallis held up a hand.  “We’re not here to quibble.  We’re here to try and make a few plans between rounds of drinking games and maybe making out.”

 

“Hear, hear!”

 

“What shall we do?” asked Josie, her hands resting against the back of Cassie’s neck.  “It is not as if he will telegraph his next move so obviously as he did the invasion of the Arbor Wilds.”

 

“We prepare.  Maybe brainstorm better dragon killing, or mage-slaying tactics.”  Tallis bit her lip, gnawing gently.  “I don’t think he’ll be out of the game for more than a few days.”

 

Dorian sat up.  “You have an idea.”

 

“I have the vaguest flicker of a thought,” said Tallis.  “I mean, if you were a crazy, crazy darkspawn magister who wanted to enter the fade physically, and all of your plans have been thwarted, your army routed, and your head chopped off for good measure – what would you do, once you woke up only to find you had almost nothing by way of allies?  Just a… thing, a thing filled with magic that you might tap for power?”

 

“I’d find the weakest part of the veil and blast it open,” Vivienne hummed thoughtfully.  “Or simply seek direct revenge upon those who opposed me.”

 

“That’s not a comfort, Iron Lady.” Varric paused.  “What would you do if you weren’t an insane darkspawn magister?”

 

“Varric, darling, if I were actually in the place of Corypheus, you’d already be bowing to me.”

 

“I can well believe that,” remarked Solas.  “You would never have been so clumsy with the sacrifice of the Divine.”

 

“And with that, I shall take my leave,” Vivienne’s smile slashed like a blade while Solas’ deflected with grace.  She stood, giving Tallis a small nod.  “Do call me if you intend to have a productive conversation, my dear.  This meeting was, perhaps, an insufficiently thought out plan.”

 

Tallis tilted her chin, eyes cool.  “Of course, Madame de Fer.”

 

“I do hate admitting it, but the Lady Vivienne does, on occasion, have a good idea.”  Dorian ran a hand through Cullen’s hair before leaning down to kiss the Commander, deep and wet.  “Come along, darling, it will all look better in the morning.”

 

“Will it?” asked Cullen, clumsily following the tug of Dorian’s hands.  “You almost died, mage.  Then where would I have been?”

 

“Ah, but I didn’t, did I, amatus?” Dorian pulled Cullen’s arm over his shoulders.  “Good night, ladies, soldiers, and gentlemen.  Oh, and you, too, Morrigan.”

 

Morrigan rolled her eyes.  “Sleep well, Pavus.  Be on guard for the Templar’s dreams.”

 

Dorian’s brows rose before he shook his head.

 

“Bed?”

 

“Indeed, amatus.”

 

“Well,” said Leliana, “that falls rather short of smallclothes on the chantry board.”

 

“Why would there be smallclothes on the chantry board?” asked Cole.

 

“Come on, kid.  I’ll tell you about it on the way out.”

 

“You’ll tell him, yeah?  I want to hear it.” Sera scrambled up to follow the dwarf and spirit out.  “Gotta be inneresting how you’d tell it.”

 

The party broke up, with Josephine waving Tallis off.  “I will take care of the cleanup, my Lady – Tallis.  Go to bed and rest, the morning will come soon enough.”


	5. Why does it hurt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” disagreed Solas. “The Inquisitor has always been wiser than her years and race would indicate.”

In Tallis’ opinion, the next morning came far too soon.  A servant woke her before dawn with a high priority message from Leliana.  The only saving grace was the cup of Dorian’s patented hangover cure and a piping hot sausage roll from the kitchens.

 

Tallis picked her way through the sleepy bustle of the pre-dawn castle, deftly avoiding the castle staff as they ensured that the throne room glistened.  Here the banners of the Inquisition hung proudly from the high, vaulted ceilings and ancient mosaics took pride of place on polished granite walls.  Varric was already up, buried in ledgers, and grunted a fond good morning as she passed him on her way out the door.

 

Leliana met her on the first landing of the crooked stairway that led up to the main hall, falling into step as Tallis headed for the guardhouse and the chasm bridge.

 

“So.  Big news, I take it?”

 

“Expected news, more like.” Leliana looked none the worse for wear after a night of drinking and storytelling. “As you know, the Grand Clerics have put forward some rather unexpected names for the position of Divine.”

 

The graceful, Orlesian lilt to Leliana’s voice was amused.

 

“Are they still bothering you and Cassandra?”

 

“Our dear Lady Seeker told them that _after_ we save the world is soon enough.” Brilliant blue eyes grew distant as they strolled the length of the bridge.  “But that is not why I called you.”

 

“I didn’t think so.” Tallis thought rather longingly of her warm bed, warmer Bull, and the flogging he’d promised her before they’d fallen into tangled, sweat-slick sleep.  “Briala is back from Val Royeaux, then?”

 

Leliana tilted her head and Tallis could see the Orlesian elf sitting nonchalantly on the low wall that edged the bridge.

 

“Lady Briala.”

 

“Inquisitor,” Briala’s quick smile flashed.  “I must thank you for the agents you dispatched to the Exalted Plains.  As you predicted, it has not been difficult to claim and fortify abandoned land.  Celine has been… most gracious in pushing through land grants.  She has raised three elves to significant nobility and dared anyone to say anything about it.  The bloodbath has been entertaining to say the least.”

 

Tallis grunted.  “There has got to be an easier way to clear deadwood.”

 

“It is Orlais,” said Leliana.  “The Game is always in deadly earnest, but it is far past time for Celine to openly bloody her knives.”

 

“I suppose.  I did tell her to govern and care for her people.” Tallis leaned against the low wall, watching sunlight gild the mountain tops as it crept over their tall horizon.  “That still seems a little light for a pre-dawn wake up call.”

 

Leliana sighed softly.  “Inquisitor –“

 

“Ah, let me.” Briala pulled out a piece of parchment.  “It’s a boon to spies everywhere that all official documents must be signed in quintuplicate.”

 

Tallis’ lips tilted downward as she read.  The proposed betrayal was one of several she and Leliana had speculated on in the past months.

 

“I see.”

 

“If we gain any more information, I will see it delivered here.” Briala bounced to her feet.  “For what it is worth, I am sorry, Inquisitor.”

 

“Don’t be, it wasn’t unexpected.  It is, after all, a part of the Great Game." Double think and double speak, with everyone your enemy.  Tallis gifted Briala with a small smile.  "Thank you.”

 

“It was my pleasure.”  Briala melted into the shadows of the growing dawn.

 

“So, countermeasures will have to be put into place.”

 

“Of course.” Leliana tilted her a look.  “It could be a lie.”

 

“We can’t take that chance.” Tallis looked back at Skyhold, standing strong and proud against the sky. “Talk to Dagna.  I have no doubt she’ll have opinions.”

 

“Dagna has always had those.” Leliana laughed.  “She was such a tiny, determined thing when we met her in Orzammar.  She was born to the smith caste and her father was determined that she would follow in his footsteps.  But she wanted to understand magic, to see the world beyond the confines of the Stone.  Elissa... well, Elissa was much taken with her.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Elissa had always wanted to be a Grey Warden.  Her father forbade it.” Leliana stared into the distance.  “She did not want to see Dagna's ambition thwarted by a father’s overprotectiveness.  Too reminiscent of her own past and losses, I think.”

 

“But her Majesty did become a Grey Warden.”

 

“Because of the Blight.  But that is a different tale.”  They started walking back toward the stronghold.  “You remind me of her, on occasion.  Strength in the face of overwhelming odds, grace in holding the weight of a world.  They should nominate you for the Divine.”

 

Tallis choked as they passed the guardhouse.  “That’d be a pretty picture.”

 

“Wouldn’t it just.” Leliana paused.  “Come see me later.  I have been working with Clemence on a small project that I think you should see.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“You’ll enjoy it, Tallis.” Leliana’s lips curved but her eyes were grim.  “It’s a little bit revolutionary.”

 

The spymaster slipped into the growing crowds of Skyhold’s morning.

 

*

 

“Good morning, Inquisitor.” Solas sat at his research table, making faces as he drank his morning tea.

 

Tallis couldn’t help but smile when he grimaced.

 

“Why do you drink tea if you don’t like it?”  Tallis poured herself a cup, humming softly with pleasure.  It was a Nevarran blend, with hints of flowers and a pleasantly sweet undertone.

 

“I cannot understand how anyone can find this beverage pleasant.” Solas dropped his cup to the table in disgust.  “But it does help one overcome any lingering fatigue in the morning.”

 

“Have you tried coffee yet?”

 

“Apparently the cooks believe that elves would not enjoy it and thus never send any up.”

 

“Solas, all you have to do is ask.” Tallis walked to the door and flagged down one of the castle staff, a boy of perhaps fifteen years and an eagerness to him. “Could you please ask the kitchens to send up another pot of this tea for me and a carafe of coffee for Solas?  And to include some sugar and some cream?”

 

“Of course, your worship!” The kid was off like a shot and Tallis shook her head, laughing a little.

 

“I don’t know that I will ever get used to that form of address.”

 

Solas studied her with hooded eyes.  “I suspect that you will have to.”

 

“Oh?”  She half-sat on the book covered table.  “Do you?”

 

“What you have done with the Well is not… not something that can be taken lightly, Inquisitor.”

 

“Solas.”

 

“I do not wish to offer you disrespect.”

 

“You’re my friend.  Calling me by name is hardly disrespectful.”

 

“I… suppose I am,” Solas sounded faintly surprised.  “I apologize, Tallis.  The events in the Temple have disconcerted me.”

 

“Running into elves that are thousands of years old might do that to one.”

 

Amusement flirted with his thin lips.  “They are no small part of it, but mostly it is you.  You are aware that your eyes are no longer brown.”

 

“Cole mentioned it.  He said they’re very pretty.”

 

“Well, I cannot disagree with him – the brilliance of Fade-touched green _is_ striking.”

 

Tallis closed her eyes for a moment, letting something within her shift a fraction of a degree before opening them again.  She stared into Solas’ eyes and found a ring of Fade-touched green circling his pupils like a banked fire.  Spirits flocked around them, staring in open curiosity.

 

Tallis smiled as a small, strangely furry blob rolled over to her, seeming to sniff her shoes.  “You’re an inquisitive one.”

 

“It is.” Solas sounded oddly strained.  “It is a strange phenomenon you carry with you, Tallis.”

 

“Oh?” She flicked a glance at him, ignoring the flickering overlay of a great and powerful wolf.

 

“You continue to close fade rifts, strengthening the veil, and yet around you it is almost as though the veil doesn’t exist.”  He stood and walked over to the small being at her feet, lifting it with gentle hands.  “This is a very young Spirit of Wonder.  I doubt it is much more than a few days into its existence.  We must have reached a threshold of young children.”

 

The creature wrapped strangely boneless limbs around Solas’ throat, thrumming joyfully as Solas buried his face in its many-hued almost-fur.  “Yes, you may spend the day with me.”

 

Several other spirits made odd little burbles, squawks, and chortles as Solas waved them away.

 

“As you can see, Inquisitor –”

 

“Your Worship?” Two of the younger staff came in, bearing a tray of tea, coffee, and more sausage rolls from the kitchen.

 

“Ah, over here!”  She cleared a space on Solas’ desk.  “Mmmm. Food.  Thank you, gentlemen.”

 

“You’re welcome, your Worship!” The two young men left with a dazed good cheer that made her sigh.  Hero worship.  All she could do was hope it would wear off.

 

“So,” she said, pouring him a fresh cup of coffee.  “You might like this.  You might not.”

 

“It smells delightful, as opposed to that… abomination of flowers and leaves you ordered.”

 

“Solas, by every standard I’ve ever heard of, you’re about the worst elf ever, do you know that?” She took a sip of her Nevarran tea and sighed, content.  “Not that I have room to talk, being, perhaps, one of the worst Qunari or Tal Vashoth to currently breathe.”

 

Solas’ eyes closed in bliss as he sipped his coffee.  “Oh, this _is_ much better. I was under the impression that you are not actually Tal Vashoth, as you have never ascribed to the Qun.”

 

“True, though few enough people recognize the distinction,” Tallis turned her eyes to the walls, admiring Solas’ murals.  “So, Fade-touched sight. Which, okay, those murals are, wow.”

 

“Ah, yes, you would be able to see that now.” She heard him put his cup down and she turned to look at him.

 

“They’re amazing, Solas.”  Fade-sight gave the murals depth and an emotional resonance that filled Tallis with a strange awe.

 

“Thank you.” He tapped his fingers on the table in an elegant little dance.  “The Well of Sorrows.”

 

The voices in her mind stirred and she could feel the alien awareness of them look out from behind her eyes.

 

**What do you wish to know, son of Pride?**

 

The voice that issued from her lips was as sweet as a dying breath.

 

“Nothing more than that the Inquisitor is safe,” said Solas.  “She has many burdens to carry.”

 

**She is safe with us and we with her.  We would never allow her to come to harm if there is aid we can give.  There is a place here, where we may rest and she will guard.  It is enough.**

 

“Because that? Isn’t creepy or anything,” said Tallis as the awareness curled back up in a corner of her mind.  “I was intending to look for an appropriate location today.”

 

Solas stared hard at her.

 

“I have… heard of the Bearer of Sorrows, but nothing in the Fade has shown me the actual phenomenon.”

 

“Solas, it’s not like you have to come up with a complex ritual to rid me of something.”  She traced her fingers along the tabletop, feeling a visceral pleasure in wood use-worn to silken smoothness.

 

“You have been changed, Tallis.  Does that not concern you?”

 

She stared at him and then down at the flaring anchor-mark on her hand.  When she looked back at him, he smiled with no small amount of chagrin.

 

“That was, perhaps, not the right question.”

 

Tallis shook her head and laughed.  “Well, apparently the Well knows where it wishes to go.”

 

“Indeed.  Would you allow me to accompany you?”

 

“Of course,” she stood up.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure that there’s more below the castle than a floorless dungeon and the undercroft.”

 

*

 

They found Cole waiting for them at the door that led to the cells below the castle, a dreamy smile curving pale lips.

 

“It’s safe to find the empty core.  The stones hope song will fill their hollow heart. O, light and music, filled at last.”  He tentatively took Tallis’ hands, lifting them to his ears.  “You are bright and filled with sweet and sorrowed melody.  I like to listen, when it’s quiet.  Skyhold dances to your song without moving, sings without voice.”

 

Tallis looked down at Cole and calmly threaded her fingers through his.

 

“If you say so,” her eyes met Solas’ and the elf shrugged.  “Do you know where we should go?”

 

“Down.”

 

“Such a help, Solas.  Such a help.”

 

He chuckled as Tallis passed the guard on duty, heading down into the bowels of the keep.  Here the stonework was less visibly refined, but it was sturdy enough to stand the test of ages.  They passed the storage rooms – someone had known what they were doing there, with enormous rooms enchanted to stay cold so that the castle could store months, perhaps even years worth of food.  Further down they came across the spring-fed underground lake that provided much of the castle’s water supply.

 

From there they passed into halls of unworked stone.

 

“It has been so long,” said Cole.  “It hurt when they left, cold and lonely.  Those who came were not the ones she waited for, and they hurt her, too, with their unmaking and reforming.  But now the awaited one is here:  bright, blinding, beating heart.  Oh, beloved, she carries our souls, our purpose, our foundation.  She has brought them. They are here.”

 

His hand brushed a stone face and the wall vanished, revealing a long chamber with tiered hot springs.  Clear, glowing crystals grew from the walls in colorful posies, bathing the room in ever-shifting rainbow light.  The highest tier of the spring lay near the center of the room, where Abelas and his people worked silently, cleaning the stone and setting out small lanterns that glowed with clear, white light.

 

“Abelas.”  He looked up, golden eyes neutral and assessing.  He glanced at Solas, who bowed without the faintest hint of mockery.

 

“Lady Herald.”

 

“Tallis,” she told him.  “For some reason I’m not surprised to find you here.”

 

“We still serve the will of Mythal and she spoke to us in our dreams.  We are almost ready for you.”

 

“Do I need to get wet?”

 

The ancient elf laughed, looking startled when the rusty sound issued from his throat.

 

“You may prefer to be sky clad,” he agreed.

 

“Oh, my,” said Solas.  “Cole, you should not tell the Iron Bull that we have seen the Inquisitor naked.”

 

“I wouldn’t!” Cole looked distraught.  “It would hurt him, even though he thinks that Tallis would not betray him.”

 

Tallis, caught in the process of removing her ridiculous tan uniform, froze for a second before pulling her undershirt off.

 

“Why would it hurt him, Cole?”

 

“Kadan. So beautiful it hurts, but they would take her, hurt her, mutilate her. Everything I cannot have. I should push her away, let another… No. Mine.” Cole’s pale, pale eyes locked on her face. “No.  Not mine.  _Hers._ She is hers to control. Not the Qun.  Never the Qun.”

 

“No,” Tallis smiled sadly into Cole’s eyes.  “Never the Qun.”

 

“Why does love hurt, Tallis?” The boy-spirit wrapped his arms around her, oblivious to her nudity, and buried his face in her chest.  “It shouldn’t hurt.  It hurts you, it hurts Dorian, it hurts Cullen, it hurts the Iron Bull.  But it shouldn’t hurt.  It shouldn’t!”

 

“Oh, Cole,” Tallis hugged him back.  “Even kindness can hurt.  And not all hurts are bad.”

 

“I don’t understand.” He muttered the words into her skin, his breath dry and strangely chill.  “I don’t know if I want to.”

 

Tallis pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.  “This is the world of blood and bone, Cole.  Things get mixed up and tangled together.  We get hurt and the wounds sometimes fester and sometimes scar.  But it’s worth it.  Even the pain and the loss are worth it for the love, the compassion, and the kindness.”

 

“You are too young for such wisdom.” Abelas’ whisper floated softly through the cavern.

 

“No,” disagreed Solas.  “The Inquisitor has always been wiser than her years and race would indicate.”

 

Tallis rolled her eyes and stepped back from Cole, who stared at her with stricken eyes.

 

“Does it always hurt?” he asked, hushed.  “Love?”

 

“No.”  Tallis brushed his hair away from his eyes.  “Sometimes it’s pure joy.”


	6. Potentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In the realm of the infinite, anything can happen.”
> 
> Solas started, staring hard at her. “What did you say?”

“Lady Inquisitor,” said Abelas, “it is time.”

 

Tallis brushed a kiss over Cole’s forehead and turned toward the spring.

 

“What do I need to do?”

 

A small smile quirked his lips.  “Immerse yourself in the spring.”

 

“Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”

 

Solas chuckled softly behind her as she strode to the edge and looked down.  The water was clear and scented of minerals, but not of sulfur, which was a relief.  Tallis sat at the edge of the pool, testing the heat of the water.

 

“Well, it won’t boil me in under a minute, so that’s a good sign.”

 

Sliding into the water, she found it deeper than expected.  Even at the edge it was as deep as her shoulders.  A few steps forward would close the water over her head.  Tallis closed her eyes and took a breath before stepping forward and allowing herself to sink toward the bottom.  She drifted downward through languid heat, mind and spirit unlocking, opening, gaping wide as soul after soul raced through her unguarded gates, burning trails of ancient knowledge indelibly into her memory.

 

Her back touched the bottom of the pool and actinic light flared beyond her eyelids, blindingly white even though her eyes were closed.

 

**Take a breath, child, and open your eyes.**

 

Tallis obeyed, despite the atavistic fear of drowning, only to find herself in a simply adorned room, awash in the green light of the Fade.  A tall, slender woman with long, jet black hair and golden, predator’s eyes studied her curiously.  She wore a simple shift of homespun wool and a crown of ebrium and black lotus flowers atop her head. She had a long, narrow face and cheekbones that could cut glass, but it was the delicately pointed ears and hawk-eyes that marked her for what she was – one of the ancient Elves of Arlathan.

 

“Um.  Hi?”

 

The woman blinked, long and slow, before her lips turned up and laughter rang in the small, impossible space.

 

“You are not at all what I expected,” said the woman.  “One of our short-lived descendants, or perhaps a mixed-blood human, but you are neither of these, and unknown to me.”

 

Tallis ducked her head, abruptly aware of her physical appearance.  Tall, marble-white skin, swept-back horns, and a shock of blood-red hair – compared to the elven woman’s grace, she was left feeling gangly and awkward.

 

“I’m… Kossith.  Ma’am.”

 

“A race unknown to us, how delightful.” Those pale, thin lips curved in delighted irony.  “Oh, stop looking like I find you wanting, girl.  It is merely unforeseen and all the more entertaining for it. The plans you have disrupted, thousands of years in the making – oh, that will sting pride. But who is to say that that the result will not be better?”

 

Tallis tilted her head, and then turned her gaze upon the room they were in.  The lines of it were simple and elementally elven, graceful sweeps like tree-limbs and climbing vines.  Outside the window she could see an impossible terrain, filled with crystal towers and floating bridges.  A city built of misty memory, unlike any in Thedas. It was achingly beautiful and chillingly empty.

 

“Ma’am, who are you?”

 

“In life I was called Enasalin.  Now?” she shrugged.  “I might be called Vhenan Abelas, as our descendants might say, in the shattered reflection of our true tongue.”

 

“Heart of Sorrow?” Tallis snorted.  “That’s like saying ‘I’m the Herald of Andraste’ – it is what someone else may call me, but it’s not who I am.”

 

“Isn’t it, Caputalis Adaar?” Enasalin swept forward in an ethereal glide, predator’s eyes gleaming.  “Killer, judge, symbol, anchor, _weapon._   You are all of these things.  Perhaps you are the chosen of this Andraste.  You are certainly under the hand of Mythal.”

 

Impossibly they were eye-to-eye, Enasalin’s breath honey on Tallis’ tongue before the heart of sorrow kissed her, bitter and sweet.  Tallis’ belly clenched in sudden, unexpected _want_ ; an unspeakable lust not only for the woman before her, but all she was. She wanted to kill her, fuck her, take her – _tame her_ , suck her dry of knowledge and pleasure and leave a hollow, grieving husk behind.

 

Tallis pulled away, shuddering in wet, foul need.  She half-expected to see the enticing gold and debauchery of a desire demon and instead found herself in the raw Fade, staring at a formless being of coruscating light.

 

**Very good, Caputalis Adaar.  You know the seduction of Sorrow for what it is.**

 

“A harrowing? A _harrowing_?  Are you joking?  All of this bullshit to see if I can resist the lure of desire?”  Tallis felt befouled, like she had been swimming in the sewers of Val Royeaux.

 

The being rippled in improbable ways, the way the sun would laugh, if the sun could.

 

**The lure of desire?  You are a lustful creature, prone to indulging your carnal wants.  No, I wanted to test your ability to resist the corruption of power.  You might have drained me to nothing more than a distant memory.**

 

“I’m sure that would have gone well for me,” snapped Tallis.

 

**I am called the Heart of Sorrow, Inquisitor, not the Heart of Kindness.  Wars might be ended with gentle words or harsh ones, but they are won with brutality and finesse of action.  You are a weapon, by your own admission, and it was necessary to test your mettle.**

 

“And am I cast iron or Antivan steel?”

**You are well honed dragonbone, child.  Be wary not to over sharpen your edge.**

 

“Wonderful.”  The word tasted sour in her mouth.  “So all of this was to see if I am worthy to serve you?”

 

**Oh, goodness no, dear girl.  You have brought me here to fulfil my purpose – to act as a guardian to the Place that Holds Back the Sky. You offered what my protectors could not.  It is I who am in your service, Caputalis Adaar.  I merely wished to know who I was binding myself and my servitors to.**

 

“But… the Temple.”

 

 **Long ago, Mythal promised protection if I would guard the memory of our people.**   The scintillating core of light re-formed into Enasalin, now clad in flexible dragonscale.

 

“I wished for the long sleep, but Mythal was most insistent.  There was a time coming when the skies themselves would break open.  I would be needed.  My knowledge would be needed, _our_ knowledge would be needed.” She waved a hand and an Elven fortress stood upon a jagged peak – Skyhold as it once had been.  “This was to be the place I guarded as it guarded me.  Yet life – and death – interfered.  My transformation occurred in the Temple, not here, and I was bound to Mythal’s service, not the service of Skyhold.”

 

“So Abelas and the rest?”

 

“Their duty to Mythal ended when you took control of the Temple.  They remain in service to me, and as such, in service to Skyhold.”

 

Tallis frowned, but said nothing.  That did not sit well with her, sounding too much like slavery.

 

“What about me and Morrigan?”

 

“You did not _drink_ from the Well, Inquisitor.  That was an offering of service until death and it is written into your companion’s flesh.  The offering, once made, cannot be rescinded or changed – it is up to Mythal to accept or reject the terms.  You merely offered a service that I accepted.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Thank you, Inquisitor, for your aid.  It is time for you to wake.”

 

*

 

Tallis gasped and found herself coughing out water at the side of the pool, with what felt like dozens of hands on her wet body.

 

“Not quite my fantasy,” she wheezed out, managing to flop over on her stomach and force more water from her lungs.  “Naked with a lot of good-looking men, sure.  Not so much on the vomiting water.”

 

Solas chuckled.  “There’s our Inquisitor.”

 

“But you don’t –“

 

“Joke, Cole.” Drawing air into her lungs felt like inhaling rusty daggers until a wash of healing energy poured over her.   The next breath was sweet and easy.  “It was a joke.  That said, clothes would be nice.”

 

The spirit boy scampered over to the pile of her clothing, nimble as a squirrel and she smiled.

 

“His human side isn’t so bad,” she murmured.  Solas slid her a glance and smiled, just a bit.

 

“No.  I regret being so… intransigent.  I had not thought such a thing to be possible.”

 

“In the realm of the infinite, anything can happen.”

 

Solas started, staring hard at her.  “What did you say?”

 

“That in the realm of the infinite, anything can happen?” Cole came back with her clothes.  “It’s a saying of my Da’s, but it always seemed wise to me.”

 

“Was it?  How… interesting.”

 

“Please, be inscrutable.”  Tallis frowned at her smallclothes and then waved a hand, summoning a small wash of heat and air.  She hated putting dry cloth on damp skin.  “It’s very comforting.”

 

Abelas chuckled.  “It is also a saying of fabled Enasalin, from long before the Fall, before Mythal was murdered.”

 

Solas flashed his teeth in something a bit too feral to be a smile.

 

“Doubtless I have heard it in dreams,” said Solas.  “Though I cannot say where.”

 

“Who was Enasalin?” asked Tallis.

 

“None know what her true name was.” An elf stepped forward, bowing slightly.  Her golden, predator’s eyes gleamed in the rainbow light.  “Only that she ended the warring amidst our people, creating the great empire.  Enasalin, they called her.  Victory.  Asha’belabelas, the woman of many sorrows.  A being of legend.”

 

Tallis forced herself not to look at the restored Well.  Then she frowned.

 

“You speak common?”

 

“We are connected to the Well.  The Well has learned from you, just as you have learned from it.  And we, as its servitors, know what it knows.”

 

“I see.” She could see the connection each had with the well if she tried.  “Do you want to remain in service to the Well?”

 

The elven woman’s mouth pursed in confusion.  “Why would I not?”

 

“It is a question for another time, Inquisitor.” Solas caught her eye and shook his head.  “I am certain you had other goals to meet this day, aside from drowning.”

 

“I did – do.” Tallis bowed.  “Thank you all for your service and assistance.  Has Josephine assigned you quarters yet?”

 

“She has.” Abelas’ expression contorted oddly.  “They are… adequate.  Your Commander has requested that we train with his troops, but I felt we should wait upon your orders, Lady Inquisitor.”

 

“Your primary purpose is to protect the Well,” said Tallis, “But that may involve defending the keep itself.  Cullen and his men need to know your abilities, in the case he may need to deploy them.  You might also enjoy learning the weaponry and tactics of this time.  I’m sure it would be useful to us both!”

 

“I had thought we might… teach,” said a shorter elf with a shock of brilliantly white hair.  “Too much loss have they seen.”

 

“Speak to Lady Josephine – you’re right that the elves have lost far too much.”

 

“You are very generous.” Abelas studied her.  “And if there are those of us who simply wish the Long Sleep, until they are again needed?”

 

“Then we will find a way,” said Tallis.  “I’m not here to imprison or enslave you.  I won’t stop you if you want to leave.  I mean, I’d like you to stay, there’s so much we could learn from you – and you from us, I hope.”

 

“She wears the burden like a cloak, offers comfort seeking none. The song is strange but not unpleasant. It would be nice to dance.”

 

“Cole,” Tallis took his hand.  “That’s probably enough for one day.”

 

He hummed contentedly, lacing his fingers with hers.  “I thought I might try eating today.”

 

“Did you?” Tallis nodded to Abelas and quirked a brow at Solas before heading out of the chamber of the Well.  “Why today?”

 

“Cook is making that thing with the meat and vegetables and the soft bready things, the one that the commander likes so much.”

 

“Cook is making druffalo stew with dumplings?”  Tallis’ stomach growled.  “It is very good.”

 

“It smells like kind words and gentle touches.  It makes him happy and sad.”

 

“You mean it smells like home?”

 

Cole considered it as they walked upwards.  “Maybe?  It smells like people who love him and miss him.  It hurts them that he doesn’t come home more often, but they are happy, too, because he is happy here.”

 

“Family, then.” Tallis pulled Cole closer, wrapping an arm around the surprised spirit’s waist.  “It’s why he always comes to meals when it’s served.”

 

“Yes!” Cole leaned into her embrace.  “He is reminded of home when he smells it, but eats with us because he loves us, because we are family, like those he left behind.”  He looks up at her, pale eyes glowing a faint silver.  “Because we are family and friends.  He writes letters home, because his family worries about him the way he worries about us. It tangles, the worry and the love, but it’s okay.  The hurt is worth it.”

 

Cole’s smile was like the summer sun, brilliant and warming.

 

“I want to try it.  I want to know what it’s like to eat something that smells like family.”

 

They passed a guard as Cole said that and the poor woman’s eyes widened so far it looked painful.  Tallis shooed him off to find Varric, calmly assuring the guard that Cole didn’t eat people, much less whole families.

 

*

 

 

After that, the day exploded with pure Inquisition business.  Despite her misgivings, Tallis gave the order for Sampson to be brought to Skyhold.  Cullen seemed to think he’d hidden his gratitude for it, but she was unable to resist his kicked puppy expression.  She understood that he wanted to save a man who had once been his friend and brother, a man he believed he’d failed, but she couldn’t help but worry – tangled, as it was in the affection she bore him.  Between the lyrium and Sampson’s willing discipleship to Corypheus, she had doubts that he could be redeemed.

 

Krem suggested that they send the few Chargers they had available out to rattle swords and light empty campfires to deceive whatever remained of Corypheus’ command structure that the Inquisition had more forces available than was actually the case, and Cullen leapt on the idea.

 

“We _must_ put him on the defensive,” said Cullen, examining the war table.  “It will be several weeks before we can bring the bulk of our forces back from the Arbor Wilds.  If he has troops to spare, we are vulnerable.  Sampson was his General, he wouldn’t have allowed Corypheus to make so elementary a mistake as committing all of his troop strength to the Wilds.”

 

“The way the Inquisition has done?” asked Morrigan archly.  “Are you more a fool than your brethren, then?”

 

“Of course not,” snapped Cassandra.  “We have sufficient troops to defend Skyhold, but we are stretched thin if Corypheus chooses to attack elsewhere.”

 

“The Inquisitor is his target.” Leliana’s voice was a soft murmur.  “He will choose to come after Tallis before randomly attacking others.  I do not believe we need to fear that.”

 

Tallis shook her head.  “I doubt it.  Remember what Vivienne said?”

 

Josephine brushed her lips with the end of her quill, eyes narrowed slightly in calculation.  “She said she would attack the weakest part of the veil and push through.”

 

“Or try to take revenge on her opposition.” Cullen’s honeyed eyes darkened with concern.

 

“Corypheus is extremely goal oriented.” Leliana stilled, seemingly carven of pale marble.  “He does not waste his time on trivial matters.  He wishes to kill Tallis, but he has not dedicated effort to it.  He has troops, he has a dragon – he could have come here at any time.  He has the ability to migrate to the body of a Warden – to disguise himself as one.  He could have infiltrated Skyhold without difficulty and destroyed us from within.  He could easily have used agents to attempt it, but I have yet to find an agent that does more than the standard spying.  Killing Tallis is a desire, but not a true priority unless she is physically present.”

 

“So we have to worry about him punching another hole in the sky?”

 

Tallis rolled her eyes.  “Why would he bother?  He’s already got the one!  If it were me, I’d just re-open the old wound.  It will take generations for the veil to completely heal the breach.”

 

Morrigan rubbed her temple, wincing slightly.  “The Inquisitor is correct – without direct intervention, the veil will remain weak there.  ‘Tis something that should be looked into, regardless.  Spirits flock to places where great and terrible things have happened – as thin as the veil is, some may begin to cross over.”

 

“You expect that it will attract demons?”

 

Morrigan shook her head.  “Of course, but that is not my concern.”

 

“Oh?” Leliana’s brows rose in question.

 

“Demons can be dealt with,” Morrigan waved a dismissive hand.  “But we now know that _spirits_ can push through.  I am concerned that there may be more like _Cole_.  Beings that need help returning to the Fade, or to adjusting to existence _here_ without becoming demons.”

 

“Well, shit,” said Cullen, causing everyone in the room to stare at him. “What?  I can’t be the only one who finds the idea of multiple Cole’s wandering the countryside to be disturbing.”

 

“You are never so crude,” said Josephine, looking shocked.

 

“Rarely in front of people, true.” Cullen stared down at the map.  “Still, if Tallis and Morrigan are correct, then we have the advantage.  For the first time, we should be able to make Corypheus to fight us on our terms and on our prepared battleground.”

 

Tallis smiled at him, full and bright.  “Exactly.”


	7. Dreams of Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are we going to spar, Commander?” The words tasted of secrets and sin.
> 
> “If that’s what you wish.”

Dinner that evening was full and lively, the newfound confidence of the Inquisition leadership echoed in the fortress’ residents and heroes.  Cullen, true to Cole’s prediction, showed up for the meal.  What was unexpected was his attire – casual, confident, and lazily sensual.  Honeyed leather that laced up the side, blue silk that set off his eyes, and the boots she and the girls had chosen for him because they’d start riots – Cullen was a picture of masculine beauty and power that actually muted the dull roar of the hall as he passed through.

 

“My, my, my,” said Dorian, standing to meet him, “aren’t you a sight.”

 

“Mmmm,” Cullen blushed slightly, and through the gap of his shirt collar, Tallis could see a hint of tooled leather caressing his collarbone.  Dorian smiled wickedly, pulling the Inquisition’s commander close and kissing him.  Tallis could almost hear a hundred hearts break as Cullen melted into the kiss, hands lowering to Dorian’s hips to pull the mage close.

 

“Now _that’s_ the way to make a man see stars, Sparkler,” said Varric, beginning to clap.  “I’ll give it a nine out of ten.”

 

Dorian shoved a knee between Cullen’s thighs in response and ground upward, causing Cullen to moan, low and faintly feral.

 

“I’d give that a ten,” said Bull, placing a hand on Tallis’ shoulder, his thumb brushing where her silverite gorget rested on her neck.  Tallis barely noticed as Mother Giselle and a few of her Sisters rose and left the room, more entertained by the smattering of applause as Dorian pulled away from Cullen, resting their foreheads together.  The commander flushed a deep red, matching his kiss-swollen lips, but his smile was soft and open.

 

“This time,” he said distinctly, “I’m not drunk.”

 

Cullen stole another kiss before disengaging completely, taking his seat at the table.  Dorian looked down at him, surprise written upon his mobile features.

 

“Indeed, you are not, amatus.”  His fingers brushed Cullen’s neck with a brief caress before he sat down.  “It’s your favorite tonight.  Druffalo and dumplings.  You see, I even dressed for the occasion.”

 

Tallis laughed into her mug of ale as Dorian gestured to himself, dressed in a distinctly Fereldan style of leathers and linen and Cullen rolled his eyes.  “Idiot.”

 

“Now, now, commander, only Varric gets to give out nicknames.”

 

“Hey, now.  I’m not the only one, just ask Tiny, over there.”

 

Bull chuckled, his hand sliding down her arm as he took his seat next to her.  “I mostly just call it as I see it.  And the ’vint _is_ an idiot.”

 

“Oh?” Dorian raised a brow.  “That’s not what you were saying earlier.”

 

“Hmmm.” Bull accepted a bowl of stew from one of the serving girls.  “We all have our moments.”

 

Dorian caught Tallis’ eye.  “Bull asked me for some assistance on a gift for you, Tallis.  If you’d be amenable to meeting us in your private the training salle downstairs after dinner, we’d love to show it to you.”

 

Tallis raised an eyebrow at him and then looked at Cullen, whose neck flushed.  Hot, honeyed eyes met hers as he smiled.

 

“Are we going to spar, Commander?” The words tasted of secrets and sin.

 

“If that’s what you wish,” Cullen took a bite of his stew and moaned appreciatively.  “What they’ve planned is pretty elaborate, but it’s all about what you want.”

 

“It’s not even my naming day.”

 

“You don’t have a naming day, Boss.”

 

Tallis punched Bull lightly in the shoulder. “I do too.”

 

Everyone at the table looked mildly surprised.

 

“You do?” asked Cassandra.

 

“Cake and candles that mummy made,” said Cole sadly.  “Smashed, like Da, all on the floor. Mum’s angry.  They should be afraid.”

 

“Cole –”

 

“No, it’s alright, Varric.  I would have told you anyway.  I don’t celebrate my naming day.  The Ben Hassrath found us once and it ended poorly for everyone. Mum is a force to be reckoned with.”

 

“That wasn’t in any of the reports I read about you,” said Bull and Tallis rolled her eyes.

 

“They aren’t an all-seeing god, Bull.”

 

“If Mama-Tallis is anything like her daughter,” said Varric, “We should have recruited her.  I bet Corypheus wouldn’t have a chance.”

 

“I thought about it,” Tallis admitted.  “But she’s busy slaughtering ’vint slavers and not-so-Tal Vashoth up and down the coast.  I imagine she’ll show up any time with her crew in tow and begin berating me about my sword forms.  She doesn’t really hold with mages who can’t pick up mundane weapons.”

 

“Hold on a moment.  Is your mother is Nike, of Nike’s Legion?” asked Dorian, incredulous. “She’s a practically a legend in Minrathous.  And by legend I mean that there’s a significant price on her head.”

 

“That’s my mum, all right.” Tallis grinned.  “Most people don’t even realize she’s a mage, what with bashing them in the head with axes… swords… the odd rock.”

 

“Is that why you chose the path of the Knight-Enchanter, my dear?” Vivienne sipped at her wine. “I _was_ somewhat surprised to see your skill with the blade – and that you are able to summon so many variants.  I don’t believe I’d ever met a Knight-Enchanter that summons a two-handed blade before you.”

 

“I like to get physical.  Although it surprises me that you don’t work with the versatility of it more.  It’s not like you have to limit yourself to swords and daggers.”

 

Vivienne narrowed her eyes at her.  “We have been the magical Chevalier for centuries, my dear.  I see no reason why we should change.”

 

“Your loss,” Tallis took a bite of stew, chewing thoughtfully.  It really was one of the kitchen’s best dishes.  “Being able to summon any kind of weapon you might want seems pretty fabulous to me, but if you want to limit yourself, well, that’s your issue not mine.”

 

Vivienne huffed and Tallis shook her head.  Sera chose that moment to bound in and attempt to smother herself with the Circle mage’s tits and make absurd smooching noises.  Tallis wasn’t sure if the point was to irritate the enchanter to the point of attempted murder – something Sera would doubtless find hilarious – or if it was just because Sera thought Vivienne’s breasts were worthy of worship.

 

“Both,” said Cole, looking up from his dinner. “This is very good.”

 

“As nice as you thought it might be?”

 

Cassandra started berating Sera for her behavior.

 

The spirit smiled.  “Better.  I didn’t know taste could be so… wonderful.  I think I should like to do this more often.”

 

“We’ll have to see how you process it, kid,” said Varric, ever-practical.  “I’m not sure how familiar you are with the bodily functions that are associated with eating and drinking.”

 

“Oh.” Cole looked at the remains of his stew and then shrugged, continuing to eat. “It will be different, but it will be fine.  My body is as human as any.”

 

“If you say so, kid.” Varric caught her eye.  “I’ll look after him.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me food could be so nice?” Cole settled his eyes on Varric.  “Is it the same with that foul-smelling stuff you drink?”

 

Tallis almost choked on her ale.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So, a gift that includes Dorian and Cullen,” Tallis glanced over her shoulder to Bull.  “What should I wear, Hissrad?”

 

“I thought you might like to wear these,” he held up a garter belt and dark, slate-grey stockings in the finest silk. “Although it’s not a requirement.”

 

“No smalls?”

 

He just smiled.  “Lace and leather seem appropriate, Kadan.”

 

“So helpful, Hissrad.”  She pulled out an undershirt that Leliana had given her, made of whisper-soft Orlesian lace.  Bull grunted appreciatively as she put it on, the grey-white of her skin emphasized by the darkness of Leliana’s silk.  The garters and stockings went on next, followed by a pair of side-laced leather pants that Josie had gifted her with.

 

“Is this sufficient, Hissrad?”

 

“I’m tempted to just keep you here, Kadan.” Bull licked his lips. 

 

“But you went to so much work,” she pulled on a sedate, thigh-length overtunic.  “And I love presents.”

 

“Not really a convincing argument, Kadan.”

 

She stood and put on her almost-sensible boots, the ankle high ones with a medium heel.

 

“You might get to fuck Dorian,” she said.  “Split that perfect ’vint ass with your mighty Qunari cock.  Wreck him.  _Conquer_ him.  See him with his hair mussed and his makeup smudged.”

 

“Hmmm.  There is that.” He studied her.  “You okay with that, Kadan?”

 

“With watching you break him apart?” Tallis sauntered over to him, drawing a firm hand down the bulge barely controlled by his dragonhide pants.  “I’d bring a toy if I didn’t think I’d have Cullen to play with.”

 

“I see,” Bull’s smile was base.  Tallis leaned in, fingers tracing the lacings of his breeches.

 

“I’m not some Chantry raised human or elf.  My feelings won’t be hurt if you fuck Dorian or that cute little redhead at the _Herald’s Rest._ ”  She flashed a dagger-smile. “I’ll just be hurt if you lie about it, Hissrad.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

She’d forgotten how soft a human tongue could be, Tallis realized, as she came, hard on Cullen’s fingers. He lapped at her clit, tongue swirling like silk against her.

 

“There we go, Inquisitor,” hot breath on swollen flesh as she writhed against the bonds Dorian had tied her in. The obscene sound of Cullen’s fingers chasing her pleasure made her moan. “You are so lovely, I could do this all night.  How about another?”

 

Tallis bucked against him and Bull laughed.  “She’s Kossith, Commander. You’ll pass out – or your tongue will fall off – long before she stops being able to come.”

 

“Is that so?” asked Dorian, sliding into her visual range, hair mussed and covered in sweat.  “I’ve almost got a mind to test that.”

Cullen ignored them both, pushing her thighs further up and apart as he fucked her with his tongue.

 

“Having fun yet, Kadan?”

 

Tallis hissed at him in a mixture of Qunlat and Tevene as Cullen pushed her over the edge again.  Dorian laughed and ran his hand through Cullen’s hair, tugging gently.  “I believe the lady Inquisitor wants your cock, Commander.”

 

“She could just ask.  Her wish is my command, after all.”

 

“Cullen,” Tallis enunciated clearly.  “Do you need me to make it an order?”

 

He shivered, redfaced and eyes so dark with want she could barely make out the ring of hazel.

 

“Cullen, as the Commander of the Inquisition, my subordinate and subject, I order you to _fuck me already._ ”

 

He slid slowly up her body, bringing his lips to brush hers.

 

“To work, then?”

 

Tallis groaned, arching in to the thick, delicious slide of him within her body.  “Oh, fucking yes, _to work.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The four of them fell asleep on the huge, makeshift bed that Bull and Dorian had cobbled together over the course of the afternoon in the rooms that Tallis had, in fact, claimed as her personal training area.  It was a room secreted off of the kitchens, with hidden doors leading to the servant’s passages and the tiny antechamber before Josephine’s office.

 

As she fell asleep, cool, gentle fingers brushed her brow.  “You must help him.”

 

Cole’s voice dropped her straight into a wretched dreamscape, where mages and Templars writhed together in passionate violence and violent passion.  It was everywhere: fucking, fighting, fury – madness, manipulation, meekness… and the beautiful, bright eyed, belligerent women who always did what he could not.  She could see Elissa Cousland – the Hero of Ferelden and her king-to-be had been so very young to be so grim, the weight of the Blight heavy upon them – trying to talk to a crazed and broken Cullen.  Marian Hawke, speaking to an older Cullen, clearly frustrated that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see that what was going on was more than just mages going mad with the power of blood magic.  She, herself, stood near an edge, the anchor flaring bright as she disrupted a rift.

 

And in the center, in an ever-repeating tableaux, abominations and demons sweeping through a room and tearing unprepared templars apart, while a young, vibrant, redheaded mage stood in chains, summoning a storm of lightning and cold.

 

Her eyes would meet his as she screamed at him, at them all, telling them to run, to go and protect the children.

 

Some did.  Some didn’t.  The storm didn’t care, cutting down everyone abomination and innocent alike. The girl fueled it with nothing but her naked will.

 

Tallis didn’t need to see it to know how it ended.

 

“It’s always like this,” said Dorian, walking up beside her.  “I’d like to title the whole thing ‘All the Things I Wasn’t’.”

 

Here in the fade, Dorian is perfectly coifed and dressed at the height of what she assumes is Tevinter fashion.  She honestly prefers seeing him in the simplicity of tunic and trousers.

 

“It’s an old dream,” is her reply and it’s true.  The colors are sharp and vibrant, but the anguish is deeply rooted and seems to have been carefully tended, so sharp are the thorns it has grown.  She turned and walked down a hallway where mages and templars both kneel in obscene obeisance to faceless desire demons.  Lyrium, the scent and sense of it, filled the air, knife-bright and tempting.  Over it all hangs a faint – oh, so faint, yet mesmerizing – song of surpassing beauty and horror.

 

The hallway spiraled upward, and Tallis continued on, Dorian chattering away at her side. The Fade sharpened to a crystalline clarity, even as the colors became soft and somewhat indistinct.  The ancient stonework of the path was worn to smoothness, yet its agonized spikes gleamed with gleamed poison.

 

“I find him here almost nightly,” said Dorian as they crossed into a stone antechamber.  Cullen knelt at the center of a warded barrier, the Chant of Light spilling from his lips in well-practiced recitation.  He doesn’t even look up as they enter.  Here the tableaux is different, more an offering to every base and sublime pleasure a human male can aspire to than a memory of perceived failure.  Loving families jostle with rape, military success with torture, and fame with murder. The offerings are old and well-tended.

 

“You have got to be kidding me.”  Tallis turned and touched Dorian’s shoulder as Cullen’s chant halts abruptly. “Honestly, you could have studied the man a little more.  _Dorian_ would never let this shit stand, you know.”

 

The creature beside her reared back, but it was far too late, her summoned blade severing the thing’s spine as she manifested it.

 

Cullen stared at her from behind the barrier, clearly confused.  “Inquisitor?  What are you doing here?”

 

“Do you dream this a lot?”

 

“With some frequency, yes.  More often since I stopped the lyrium.”  He frowned.  “Why are you here?”

 

“I’m pretty sure that Cole sent me.  Dreamwalking has never been a particular talent of mine.”  Tallis walked toward the barrier, stopping once in a while to study the offerings of what Tallis expected to be a desire demon.  “Someone has a really poor idea of what you might find appealing, Cullen.”

 

He flushed.  “I have not always been a good man, Tallis.”

 

“Okay, I might buy the mass mage murder over there,” she waved a hand. “You’ve got more than enough reason for it, but this… I don’t even know what to call this, other than a violent-sex-drugs-torture fantasy.  I mean, really?  Is making you look at it some kind of revenge for not, I don’t know, giving in to the ‘married to the pretty mage who died for me’ dream?”

 

Cullen choked on a laugh.  “I think it is, actually.”

 

“Well, it’s got to go,” said Tallis, abruptly setting it on fire.  The image screamed as it died and the dreamworld shifted slightly.

 

“It’s coming.” Cullen closed his eyes and tightened his fists.

 

“Well then, I suppose I should be thorough about it.”  The thing she loved best about the Fade was its responsiveness to will.  The whole room flared with chains of lightning, shattering the screaming dreamscape.  “It’s your dream, Cullen.  You can take control of it.”

 

“Vishante _Kaffas!”_ shouted Dorian.  “What in the Maker’s name are you two doing?”

 

“How’d you get here?”

 

“Cole woke me up to put me to sleep again – he said he’d be sending Bull in a bit.” Dorian looked as well fucked as he had when he’d fallen asleep.  “Are you aware that he’s a terrifyingly possessive cuddler when he sleeps?”

 

“No, Dorian, I’ve been sleeping with a completely different Iron Bull.  And if he was holding your crotch, well, he sometimes fondles in his sleep.”

 

“It wasn’t my _crotch.”_

 

“Dorian,” said Cullen.  “I don’t think now is the time.”

 

“You think?” Tallis’ retort was lost when the ante-chamber crumbled around them, leaving them in the raw Fade.  Below them was a poppy-filled field where a red-headed young woman struggled against the bonds that tied her to a burning pyre.

 

“Solona?” As he said the name, Cullen’s stance shifted, heavy templar armor forming around him, sword and shield shining brightly.

 

“You must be joking.” Dorian shifted too, silverite armor and the staff she’d had crafted for him appearing in his hands.  “Only you, amatus, would have this tied to your soul.”

 

“You cannot have him,” hissed a voice larger than the small world they were parked upon.  “Cullen is mine.  He has always been mine.”

 

The Fade rippled as a monstrous form stepped forth, great wings spanning the close horizon.

 

“A giant demon-dragon thing?” asked Bull, appearing slightly to Dorian’s left.  “All _right_.  Do we get to kill it, boss?”

 

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Tallis, summoning her blade and throwing up a barrier.  “Of _course_ we get to kill it.”


	8. The Thorns of Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were broken.”

Fighting dragons was one of the great thrills of life, in Tallis’ opinion, and destroying demons was pretty high on her list of favorite activities.  When she’d been very, very young and it became obvious that spirits and demons were attracted to her when she slept, her mother had placed a blade in her hands and begun training her with it.

 

“Wouldn’t it be more useful to teach her to resist?” her Da had asked, as they’d all practiced sword forms in their tiny garden.

 

“ _My_ daughter will be taught to _kill_ them.” Nike Katari flowed through the moves with an almost unnatural grace.  “She’ll know her weapons and be able to summon them in the Fade.  She will know her spells and be able to magnify them there, control them in ways we can’t in the real world.  She will be the most dangerous thing to walk in the fade and the demons will _know._

 

“We are _saarebas_ ,” said Nike, coming to a stop.  “We were born to be _dangerous things_.  Under the Qun, you learn to keep demons away or you die.  _Our_ daughter will never offer the mewling, pitiful ‘resistance’ that the ’vints teach.  ‘Just say no to the demon’ – what use is that?  It will just come back.  No.  This one will learn what we all learned – kill or die."

 

That lesson reverberated through Tallis’ life, never more so than in moments like this when a demon lifted its head and blotted out the horizon.  She could see the thorny tendrils that had embedded themselves within Cullen’s mindscape, twisting and changing it to suit its needs.  This was not possession – Cullen had been a templar for far to long for _that_ kind of thing to go unnoticed, but it was _feeding_ , widening cracks in Cullen’s subconscious, trying to make him more vulnerable to influence.

 

“Bull?”

 

“Yes, Boss?”

 

“We’re going to kill that screaming shitflower _really hard,_ okay?”

 

“Tallis?” Cullen glanced at her.

 

“It’s going to regret tormenting you,” said Tallis.  


“You’re damned right it is,” said Dorian, who could read the Fade-damage quite as well as she could. “Amatus.”

 

The dragon screamed, setting the ground itself to shuddering and cracking as spike-edged tendrils leapt from the earth, whipping wildly to grasp and feed.  Cullen when to his knees, entangled in a thorny briar of ravenous vines.

 

“Oh, hell no, you goat molesting fuckbucket.”  Tallis spun, slicing at the briar-patch of feeders before setting a significant proportion of the now squirming landscape on fire.  Dorian hissed Tevene obscenities under his breath, launching fire and ice over the ravenous landscape with vicious force.

 

“You gotta do better than that,” Iron Bull swung his axe with force, clearing a path toward toward the dragon as she and Dorian ripped the obscenely writhing tendrils off of Cullen.    “Y’ain’t gonna keep  him.”

 

The thing’s screaming rage was deafening and Tallis laughed, “We’ve got you, Cullen.”

 

“Solona—” he choked as they pulled him out.  “In the center, in the flames…”

 

“We saw her,” said Dorian softly.  “It may be another demon.”

 

“She died to try and help us escape Uldred.”  Cullen staggered to his feet.  “We were to take her to Gregoire for final judgment – thought she was a blood mage.  She chose to die for us _anyway._ ”

 

“Then we’ll do what we can,” said Tallis.  “If she’s not a demon, we’ll let her go.”

 

“Never enough,” said Cullen.  “I’ve never –”

 

“Oh, fuck me.”  Tallis stared at his bloodshot eyes.  “Right, we’re having like, an incredibly horrible heart to heart when we get out of here.  With, like, a case of the worst rotgut I can find.  But for now – Cullen this is your dreamscape, you have as much power here as that _thing,_ do you understand me?”

 

“What? I’m not a mage,”

 

“You’re one of the strongest willed people I’ve ever met, believe me, you can change this.”

 

Iron Bull roared his defiance and the dragon howled.

 

“Tallis, I –”

 

“This is the Fade,” said Dorian.  “You can do anything you can imagine.”

 

A razor edged lance of pure, kinetic force formed before the Tevinter mage, flying unerringly at the dragon.

 

“Show off,” she said, gathering power.

 

Cullen stared at them for a moment before vanishing.

 

“Seriously, the boy is bright, but that’s really not what we were going for.”

 

Tallis released her will and pulled the _entire_ disgusting mass of razor edged feeding tendrils from the ground.  “Eh.  Care to destroy this thought-construct?  We need to help Bull so we can get to your sentimental Templar.”

 

*

“You’re late,” was all Bull said, as they ran up.  The dragon-form the demon had taken was losing cohesion.  “Still, whatever it was you did weakened it a lot.”

 

Tallis whirled in, spirit blade flashing with lightning and fire.  “So sorry, it’s not like we asked you to run on ahead.”

 

“I hate demons,” said Bull.

 

The dragon gave a high-pitched stunning squeal as Dorian laid an inferno upon it that burned _white_.  Bull and Tallis both flinched back as the flames took hold.  The Tevinter mage laughed with soft malevolence.  “I could do this _all day._ ”

 

“Shit, why don’t you do that in the real world?” asked Bull as Tallis threw up a barrier and then charged the beast.

 

“You want to discuss magical theory?” Dorian laughed.

 

Tallis rolled beneath the belly of the beast, punching upward with a version of her spirit blade she’d never used but had been working on.  It glowed an incandescent white as it impaled the dragon, the blade seeming to extend forever upward toward the black city.  The demon-dragon screeched, thrashing as she _pulled_ on the Fade, shoving cleansing energies though the blade and burning away evil intent.

 

The dragon _imploded,_ shoving all of that shining, coruscating energy back through her.  Tallis screamed, doing her best to funnel it safely to Cullen, to heal the cracks and abscesses on his mind and soul that the thing had created.

 

_“Venhedis,_ are you _insane?_ ”Dorian stumbled to his knees beside her.  “Do you want to die here?”

 

“D-d-di-di-didn’t expect that.” She arched against the pain as the Fade energies coursed through her.  “Fuck.  Hurts.  So much.  Oh, Maker, please, hear my cry.  _Judge me whole._ ”

 

Her will spread and the landscape gentled.  She could feel a path grow, connecting them to where Cullen was, to the soul trapped here rested in pained resignation.

 

“Help me up.” Her arms twitched uncontrollably.  “Cullen still needs us.”

 

“Tallis –” Dorian sent a wash of healing energy.  “Dying here is not a good plan.”

 

“Plan?” Bull pulled her to her feet.  “Dying is not the plan.  Living is the plan.”  She staggered.  “Shit.”

 

“Kadan –”

 

“Kadan’s not here right now,” she told Bull, granite hard.  “She’ll be back later.  That way.”

 

She pointed.

 

“Right.  Let’s go.”  His arm went around her waist.  Dorian shored her up on the other side.

 

The ground was covered in thick, impossibly verdant grass kissed with sweet morning dew.  A faint trail of footsteps disturbed the glistening beads of water, leading them through the poppy-strewn field toward a small lake – and a brightly burning pyre.  Upon it the young mage from Cullen’s earlier dream writhed in endless agony, breath stolen by the flames.  Cullen stood beside it, face twisted in grief.

 

“I can’t make it stop.” Honeyed eyes reflected gold and Dorian abandoned her to wrap his arms around his lover.

 

The flames crackled with guilt and self-loathing, hissing viciously of fault and failure.

 

“You must let her go, amatus.”  Dorian held Cullen close.  “It was not your fault, what happened to this girl.”

 

“Solona,” said Cullen.  “Her name was Solona Amell.  One of the prettiest girls in the Tower.  She – she was caught with a friend, one who used blood magic to get away from the tower, and Knight-Commander Gregoire… we were supposed to find out what she knew about the use of it in the tower.  She’d just been _harrowed_ , she wasn’t an apprentice anymore, but it had almost taken too long and Alred, Gregoire’s second, was sure that she was part of some kind of conspiracy.”

 

“Cullen.”

 

“They’d been questioning her in the… in the dungeons.” He laughed brokenly.  “If you can call it questioning.  I’d never seen it before.  The beating, the torture.  The… the rape.  I didn’t stop them, I didn’t even try.  The only thing you can say in my favor is that I refused to take a turn.”

 

Golden eyes looked up.  “Anders – the mage who blew up the chantry in Kirkwall – was just down the hallway, locked in up in the dark, in solitary confinement.  He could hear it all.  I remember him shouting and banging on the door.”

 

Dorian looked ill.

 

“What would have happened if you’d tried to stop them?” asked Bull.

 

“What?”  Cullen’s brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“If you’d tried to stop them, what would have happened?”

 

“They’d have killed her and me.  That’s what Alred said when I wouldn’t hurt her, not – not like that.”

 

“So, what you did kept her alive, at least a little longer.”

 

“I suppose.”  The flames abated a little. “I told the knight-commander I was uncomfortable with the lengths that the knight-captain was going to, but he said that he knew that I had had a crush on Solona and that it was a necessary lesson in not trusting so much in a pretty face.  He said as Templars we were required to go to any lengths necessary to root out blood magic and Solona Amell had been close friends with Jowan for most of their lives.

 

“Then Uldred came back from Ostagar and requested a meeting with Irving and the senior enchanters.  Alred thought it would be a good time to take Solona before Gregoire for judgement.  They hadn’t managed to push her into using blood magic herself – but I knew he was going to accuse me of corruption because I wouldn’t join them, accuse her of using her blood to control my mind.”

 

“None of that was your fault, Commander,” said Tallis, watching the flames flare and fade back.  “You’ve got to let it go.  You’re not just torturing yourself with it, you’re torturing her.”

 

The spirit within the flames wept tears of molten silver.  Tallis could see its form flicker, skin turning a pale lavender, then a shining gold, and then back to pale white.  She didn’t know if it was Solona or a spirit or a demon, but she it was clear that the being suffered underneath the inferno of Cullen’s self-hatred.

 

“I don’t know how.”

 

“Forgive yourself, amatus.  Please.” Dorian cupped his face.  “We do not hate you for what you did or did not do.  You were little more than a boy yourself.”

 

“Your commander failed you,” said Bull clinically.  “If one of my men came to me and said that, I’d have asked him why.  Did your Knight-Commander?”

 

Cullen shook his head and the flames died back further.  “No, he just sent me back to my assignment.”

 

“Eh.  More fool him.  Should have made sure that you didn’t need to go to the tamrassans or the re-educators.”

 

Tallis choked.

 

“What?  Something like that, there’s a problem.  Either the Knight-Captain is doing something he shouldn’t or you’ve assigned someone to something they’re not suited for, and may need some help with before re-assignment.”

 

Cullen choked on a small laugh.

 

“Despite it all, she died for us.  She believed in us enough to try and give us time to head down the tower and save whomever we could.” He closed his eyes.  “And even then, after it was done, I told the Knight-Commander that he should execute them all, even the children. I’d seen her – beaten bloody, fingers broken, body violated, and throat so raw she could barely voice the words – call on the Maker and summon magic enough to try and save us, and I still demanded they all die.  I was crazed with it.”

 

“You were broken,” came the soft, roughened voice from inside the dying flames.  “I – she – never blamed you.”

 

The chains holding the spirit down shattered, releasing the being within to rise away from the flames.  It’s form flickered, a confusing mass of light and lavender, chains and skin, hair and incomprehensibility.

 

“You’re not Solona,” said Tallis.  “You’re a demon.”

 

The being steadied itself, the image of Solona Amell solidifying.

 

“Am I?” it asked curiously.  “I don’t… remember.  I heard her calling, she was bright and beautiful, so I came and I helped her and then I was caught and trapped and tamed, but I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t _want_ what they _wanted._   The bright one fled where we may not follow, but I was there and here and he hurt so much and she didn’t _want_ that and I couldn’t stop it.  So I was chained here, for her memory and her punishment and my defiance.  I didn’t want to hurt him, but I think I did and I’m sorry, but I can’t fix that either.”

 

“She’s like Cole,” said Dorian, wrapping himself around Cullen.

 

Tallis hummed her agreement.  “You’re free now.  Just… don’t hurt anyone.”

 

Cullen curled into Dorian’s embrace.

 

“Solona didn’t blame me?”

 

The spirit looked at him with clear grey eyes.

 

“The kind one, so confused.  They want him to break, need to show him what mages are for, make him understand, or get rid of him.  Too earnest, too kind, to pure.” Tears of silver trickled down.  “She knew – they told her when you weren’t there, it was the Knight-Captain’s way with new Templars and the newly Harrowed mages.  Break them both.  Things would change when the Knight-Commander retired, the mages would learn their place when they were brought to the tower.  Uldred knew, Irving wouldn’t believe, and the Senior Enchanters wouldn’t even try to intervene.  She was glad when it was over – she was going to die, she knew that, she just hoped that you wouldn’t be hurt, too.”

 

With that, the spirit faded, leaving them on the lush grass and by the burnt out fire.

 

“It wasn’t my fault at all.” Cullen swallowed hard.  “But – I’d had no idea.  And then I was so bloody blind in Kirkwall.  I let my anger tell me that the things that Meredith was doing were justified.  That it was the fault of the mages for not _seeing_ that they needed to be controlled.  I ignored things I shouldn’t have.  Mages were made tranquil that never should have been, were used…”

 

“Cullen,” said Tallis firmly.  “All you can do is do better.  And you’re not either of those men any more.  _You_ wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior in our ranks or punish our mages simply for existing.  We can build a better way.”

 

“Right then.” Dorian waved a hand.  “Perhaps we should wake up and have any further discussion outside of the Fade?

 

“That seems like sound advice,” agreed Tallis, resting her head on Bull’s shoulder.  “Let’s do that.”

 

Tallis closed her eyes and willed herself to _wake._


	9. Waken to the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, fuck me,” said Tallis, flopping back onto the wide mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DA:I still fails to belong to me, which continues to make me sad and not as wealthy as I could be.
> 
> For those following:  
> I do apologize, I've been engaged in the Rough Trade Spring Training Challenge, so I was busy writing a bunch of other fic last month, but I am back for my irregularly scheduled updates.

“You should not have interfered in such a way.”  Solas’ voice was gentle in Tallis’ ears as she pulled herself from sleep.  “Not unless the Commander asked for help and the others agreed to assist.”

 

“But the Commander is always asking for help,” said Cole, puzzled.  “I don’t understand. It was always there, like a beacon.”

 

“Cole,” said Tallis, sitting up, unconcerned by her nakedness.  “Come here.”

 

“Tallis.  I didn’t hurt him, I didn’t!”  Cole stared at her in wide-eyed distress, before crawling up the bedding.  When he got close enough, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into her arms.

 

“I know you didn’t.”  Tallis placed a gentle kiss on his hair.  “Thank you.  A little warning would have been nice, but _thank you._ ”

 

“Yes,” said Cullen, groaning a bit until he managed to sit upright. He took Cole from her arms and wrapped him in a deep, all-encompassing hug.  “Thank you, Cole.  Thank you for noticing.  Thank you for helping.  I didn’t know.  Years and years of being fed on by a demon and I never realized.”

“You weren’t supposed to realize,” said Cole, voice muffled by Cullen’s chest.  “It’s why it waited for you in dreams.  I’m glad you weren’t with us when we faced the Nightmare.  It would have hurt you, it would have hurt you a lot.”

 

“Can we not speak of that abominable fade creation?” asked Dorian, curling into Cullen’s other side.   “I could live the rest of my life never talking about it again.  And thank you, Cole, by the by.  I knew there was something not-quite-right with Cullen’s night terrors but dreamwalking is not one of my particular skills.”

 

“It was afraid of you,” said Cole.  “So it warded the dreamscape against you.”

 

“Is that why it took so long to get Dorian into Cullen’s dream?”

 

“No,” said Cole, sounding grumpy.  “He woke up when the Bull’s fingers touched him and I had to wait until they were done.”

 

She and Cullen stared down at Cole and then over at Dorian, who’d buried his face in Cullen’s shoulder.

 

“I _told_ you your lover is disturbingly possessive when he sleeps.”

 

“Dorian, I doubt he was asleep for most of it.”

 

“This is true,” said Bull.  “My hands wander when I sleep, but I always wake up for needy noises.”

 

“Next time, you’re sleeping on Tallis’ other side then,” said Dorian.

 

“If that’s what you want,” said Bull.

 

“There’s going to be another time?” asked Cullen, sounding surprised.

 

“If the lot of you would, perhaps, spend another time plotting your sexual escapades,” said Solas, causing Cullen to flush a brilliant red.  “You are not helping Cole understand that what he did was, at the very least, mildly inappropriate.”

 

“Which part?” asked Tallis.  “The bit where he was probably watching us fuck, or the part where he flung us willy-nilly into Cullen’s dreams?”

 

Solas frowned at her, but his eyes twinkled slightly.

 

“Fine.” Tallis ran a soothing hand down Cole’s back.  “Solas is right – you should have warned us of your plan.  Dorian and I could have prepared for that much better.”

 

“I couldn’t tell Cullen,” protested Cole.  “The demon would have heard me.”

 

“You might have told me, Cole,” said Dorian, gently taking the spirit’s hand.  “Or the Inquisitor.  Or Iron Bull, for that matter.  We would have made plans and been better prepared.”

 

Cole considered it, safely ensconced in Cullen’s embrace.

 

“I see.  You would have been ready, not surprised.  And not delayed by the Iron Bull.”

 

“Exactly.” Dorian’s small smile was full of approval and Cole practically glowed.  Cole squeezed Dorian’s hand and then pulled gently away from the circle of Cullen’s arms.

 

“You still hurt,” said Cole.  “But it will heal now.  I’m glad.”

“You did good, demon-kid.  Just next time, warn a guy before flinging him into a dangerous dreamscape.”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“I suppose that it’s all we can ask.” Solas smirked at them all.  “So, Inquisitor, Cassandra asked me to retrieve you from your den of iniquity.  She says that there’s a visitor at the bridge that you’ll want to see.”

 

“At the bridge?”

 

“Yes.  It’s another mercenary captain, if I understand it correctly.  As the Chargers are still primarily in the Arbor Wilds and off making pretty pretend camps, Cassandra thought it may be worthwhile to interview them.”

 

Bull rolled to his feet, blatant in his nudity as he scrounged up a pair of pants.  “Anyone we might have heard of?”

 

“Cassandra said that they called themselves the Legion.”

 

Tallis’ hand stilled on Cole’s back as Cullen grunted softly.

 

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard of any cohort of the Legion of the Dead _mercenaries._ ”

 

“Oh, they’re not dwarves,” said Solas.  “At least, not so Cassandra indicated.”

 

“Is their leader a tall, Tal-Vashoth female carrying a silverite-clad quarterstaff and a fucking enormous warhammer?”

 

“I believe so,” said Solas.  “I heard Leliana making a remark about it as I passed her in the Great Hall.”

 

“Well, fuck me,” said Tallis, flopping back onto the wide mattress.

 

Dorian peered down at her from over from over Cullen’s shoulder.

 

“The cake lies smashed on the floor and she burns like Rage,” Cole’s voice was soft, disconnected.  “Papa’s sword is too heavy, wrists ache with the weight.  Slash at them from behind her back, hold the barrier, hold it, **hold it.**   It hurts, mama, it hurts, it hurts, _it hurts._   They won’t stop.  So hard to block the blows.  Blood shines bright on the blade.  You won’t hurt anyone else, never again. Ben-Hassrath.  _Murderers._ ”

 

“Cole, stop,” said Cullen, eyes drifting to where Bull stands, frozen.

 

“It’s okay, demon-kid,” said Bull, as Cole stares up at him, stricken.  “I know what the Ben Hassrath do to Tal Vashoth.”

 

Tallis just curled up a bit, hunching away from the words, the memories.

 

“She loves you anyway,” said Cole, turning to touch her arm.  “She knows, and loves anyway.”

 

“The Inquisitor,” said Solas, “is a remarkable being in that way.  She may not always forgive, but she always chooses love over hate.”

 

Tallis flicked him off, standing up and retrieving her clothes.

 

“I need a bath before I can meet them.  Tell Cassandra that Nike’s Legion is hired and that I want to meet them at Haven.  We haven’t a great deal of time and we must be ready for Corypheus when he comes.”  The long, demure tunic fell over her body in soft waves, leaving her decent enough for the trip back to her rooms.

“Kadan,” said Bull, and she looked up at him, pushing her own fear and disquiet from her eyes and posture.

 

“Kadan isn’t here right now,” said Tallis, old grief staining her voice.  “I promise she’ll be back later.  But… not right now.  She can’t be here right now.”

 

Tallis bent to place a kiss on Cole’s crown and a more generous one on Cullen’s lips.  Her mouth brushed Dorian’s cheek and she went to stand before Bull, staring at him and hoping he could see the love currently drowning in memory.  She brushed her fingers over the dragon’s tooth pendant, and laid a kiss over his heart.

 

“I’ll let them know you want a bath,” said Cole, disappearing.

 

“Tallis,” said Cullen.

 

“You’re coming with, Commander, so I suggest you wash up, too.  Dorian, Solas, Bull, you are certainly welcome to come with us.  After all, it’s not every day you get the opportunity to meet my mother.”

 

*

 

Leliana met her at the gatehouse.

 

“They’ve already started the march down the mountain.  It will take them longer to reach Haven then it will for you.”

 

“Not as long as you think,” said Tallis distantly.  “Mother would have bivouacked most of them there already.”

 

“Did she inform you she was coming?” asked Leliana.

 

“No,” said Tallis.  “But if you think my mother doesn’t want a look at the Temple and the place where I was nearly killed by a darkspawn Magister, you are sorely mistaken.”

 

“Indeed,” came a cultured voice from behind them.  Vivienne stood, wrapped in a thick, ermine cloak, her dark eyes sparking in curiosity.  “Nike Katari, I’ve heard of her.”

 

“Of course you have,” said Tallis.  “Everyone has heard of her.”

 

“I had no idea she was a mage,” said Vivienne.

 

“Yep.  One who has no truck at all with mages who can’t wield swords.”  Tallis smiled coolly.  “After all, what good is it if you’re helpless once a Templar Silences you?”

 

Vivienne frowned slightly.

 

“Vivienne, I know that you believe in the fundamental necessity of the Circles, but the truth of the matter is – there are more of us who are against the abuse of mages than there are of you who think there was nothing wrong with the institution.  Were we to place all of the rebel mages with every successful apostate, and there are a lot of successful apostates, by the way, the Templars don’t hunt down as many as they think, we’d outnumber you three or more to one.”

 

“Inquisitor, I didn’t come down here to debate the necessity of the circles.  I came down to see if you are actually willing to discuss strategy against Corypheus.”

 

“Sure,” said Tallis, smiling warmly.  “You’re welcome to come along.  Just.  Don’t antagonize my mother.   She won’t take kindly to barbs about how she didn’t learn magic in a Circle.  Part of that is because she learned magic under the Qun and much of her magic is _very_ different from what you’re accustomed to – or can defend against, and part of it is because she spent a lot of time keeping both of us out of the Chantry’s hands.  So I strongly advise leaving your bitchy barbs about the superiority of your magic here.”

 

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed.

 

“If you have an issue with me, Inquisitor –”

 

“Solas can defend himself, and Dorian thinks you’re funny.  My mother will find you annoying and she will kill you.  She finds mages like you to be a threat to everyone’s freedom, because you’re willing to put up with the violent abuse of your peers in order to maintain your own power within the status quo,” Tallis told her.  “I value you for your skills, Vivienne.  But you can’t accomplish anything that my mother isn’t as good at or better – so she won’t.”

 

“I see,” said Vivienne.  “You would not defend me against her?”

 

“Physically?  To the best of my ability.  But if you start spouting your superiority bullshit, I’m also not going to kill her to stop her from harming you.”

 

“Perhaps it is best that I merely send down some suggestions.”

 

Tallis nodded and Vivienne swept off.

 

“You could have simply said no.”

 

“Please,” said Tallis.  “That would have pissed her off more, and you know it, Leli.”

 

Leliana laughed.  “True.  But it is not wise to make an enemy of Vivienne.”

 

“She’d best not make an enemy of me.”  Tallis tilted her head, sighing.  “She’ll go back to the Empress when we’re done here, and she will spread stories of how ungrateful and uncontrolled we are.  Vivienne’s already the enemy – she just doesn’t know it yet.”

 

Leliana sighed.  “What you say is true enough.  Ah, here comes Bull with your mounts.  Will you return to Skyhold?”

 

“I don’t know.  I feel like – there’s something missing, something incredibly important, but I don’t know what it is.  We’ve taken on dragons before – I’m distressingly accustomed to killing them, in fact, but… I don’t know.”  Tallis shook her head.  “I think that the next time I see Skyhold will be when Corypheus is gone, but I can’t swear to it.”

 

“All right,” said Leliana.  “We’ll operate on that assumption.  Dagna said she’s been working on some new weapons and armor for you and the rest of the inner circle.  I’ll make sure that upgraded armor and weapons get to the soldiers and mercenaries at Haven as soon as we may.”

 

“That’d be good.”

 

Leliana pressed some flasks into her hands.  “An aerosolized version of magebane.  I’ve included the antidote, enough for you and for your mother’s mages.  Be careful with it.”

 

“Thanks,” Tallis tucked them away.  “Take… all the precautions once we leave.”

 

“I will.”  Leliana bit her lip and then leaned forward, kissing her sweetly and slipping another vial into one of Tallis’ many pockets.  “For luck, Inquisitor.  You had best come back.”

 

Tallis smiled and laid a kiss of benediction upon Leliana’s forehead.

 

“I’ll do my best, Nightengale.”

 

“You ready to go boss?”

 

“As ready as I can be, I think.” Tallis smiled up at Bull as she swung up onto her horse.  “I’ve a feeling like the storm is coming.”

 

“Me, too, boss,” said Bull behind her back as they rode out.  “Me, too.”


	10. Charting Paths, Laying Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seriously, mama, not a baby.”

“So there you are.”  Nike Katari stood beside one of the cook fires, long and lithe with a deceptively simple stave and an enormous war hammer strapped to her back.

 

“Mama!”  Feeling like a small child, Tallis ran to her, throwing her arms around her mother in an exuberant embrace, despite the bits and bobs of armor that pinched and got in the way.  “I’ve missed you.”

 

Her mother laughed, slow and low, placing a kiss on her forehead.

 

“Well, I’m here now, baby.”

 

Tallis made a face.  “Seriously, mama, not a baby.”

 

“I hear you’re the big, bad Inquisitor,” said Nike amiably.  “Which seems perfectly rational in a world gone completely mad, I suppose.  But really, ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

 

“The Inquisitor is not especially fond of that form of address,” said Cullen, coming up behind her.

 

Nike looked up, eyes dark.

 

“Templar.”

 

“No, mama.  I’d like to introduce you to Ser Cullen Rutherford, the Commander of the Inquisition forces.”

 

“So,” said Nike, “not just a Templar but _the_ Templar who helped take out Meredith Stannard in Kirkwall.  Which would have been an amazingly good job, if he hadn’t spent years doing nothing about the crazy bitch.”

 

_“Mama.”_

 

“Don’t you ‘mama’ me, Tallis.”  Nike shook her head.  “It’s not really fair to you, Knight-Captain, to hold the same sin against you that corrupted the whole of Kirkwall, from the Grand Cleric on down.  I apologize.  But I can’t claim it doesn’t irritate the hell out of me that a mage had to go fucking _crazy_ and blow up a Grand Chantry just to make the problems visible.  It’s ridiculous.”

 

“You wish you’d thought of it.”  Cole appeared behind Tallis and then peered around her, eyes wide and curious.  “You don’t like the innocent blood spilled, but you wish you’d thought to do such a thing.  Why?”

 

“I’ve never met a Circle-trained apostate who wasn’t abused in ways even the Tamrassans wouldn’t have conceived of,” said Nike.  “It’s simply been a matter of time.  If someone a little more stable than Anders of Kirkwall had thought to do such a thing, it’s possible the point might have been made without the loss innocent life.”

 

“But it was wrong. People were hurt.”

 

“People were hurt every day simply by being in a circle.  Sometimes more than I can conceive of, and I was born _Saarebas_.  Saarebas experience pain and suffering at the hands of their arvaraad, granted, and having your tongue cut out is a serious danger – but rape is probably the one crime that the Qunari see very little of. ”

 

“That’s because the Tamrassan’s find them and send them to re-education first.”

 

Her mother turned dark eyes upon Bull and stilled.

 

“Hissrad.”

 

Tallis barely had enough time to throw a barrier over Bull before her mother’s blade landed true for a heart-stroke.  Nike turned hot eyes on her but pulled back.

 

“I had heard, but I’d hoped it was a lie.”

 

“Mama, please.”

 

“Captain Nike, I am here to do everything I can to stop Corypheus.”

 

“Including seduce my daughter, Hissrad?” Nike sheathed her weapon.  “If she trusts you she’s a fool.”

 

“That’s enough,” said Tallis, sharp and cutting.  “Mama, this is the Iron Bull and yes, we’re fucking.  If you have a problem with it, take it up with me, not him.”

 

“Oh, I’m going to take it up with you, baby girl.” Nike gave her the gimlet eye.  “But you’re right, now is neither the time nor place.”

 

“I’m Cole.”  The spirit-boy appeared in front of Nike and held his hand out to her.  “I’m Tallis’ friend and I like to help people.”

 

To her mother’s credit, Nike barely blinked, taking Cole’s arm in a warrior’s grip.

 

“Greetings, Cole.  I like helping people, too.”

 

“I know.” Cole’s smile was bright and happy.  “You make people stop hurting and try to give them a path to joy.  I’ve seen you.  You’re wonderful.”

 

Tallis and the others all stared at Cole.

 

“You’ve been watching my mum?”

 

“Well, yes – I mean, not recently, but before, when it was easier for me to go places, I would watch her sometimes because she’s important to you,” said Cole, staring at Tallis wide-eyed.  “Was that wrong?”

 

“No, Cole, not wrong,” said Solas.  “It is just unexpected.”

 

Tallis shook her head and smiled.  “It would have been nice if you’d said – you could have given her notes for me.”

 

“I didn’t think of that, I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it’s all right.” Tallis gave her mother a sardonic look.  “Random notes out of nowhere might have gone over badly, after all.”

 

“Too right,” said Nike.  “Because that wouldn’t have been creepy at _all._ ”

 

“The Iron Bull sometimes says that I am creepy.”  Cole stared at Nike, unblinking.  “No one will tell me that even means, so I can’t work on not being creepy.”

 

Nike considered him a moment and then ruffled his hair as she might a child’s.

 

“It means that you do things that startle and unsettle people, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that those things are bad or wrong – just that they’re startling and unsettling.  Believe me, I understand what it is to be creepy.”  Nike summoned spell wisps in a multitude of colors without making a gesture or sound.  “It’s often a side effect of being magical in some way.”

 

“Oohhhhh.”  Cole turned and looked at Tallis.  “So when your eyes changed, that was creepy?”

 

“Oh, undoubtedly,” said Dorian.  “The new shade is striking and rather lovely on our glorious leader’s face, but still – rather creepy.”

 

“Thank you for that, you crazy not-a-magister.” Tallis stuck her tongue out at him.

 

“Very professional, Tallis.”

 

“Well, I thought you should meet my friends, mama, before we had to be Inquisitor and Captain.”  Tallis motioned Dorian and Solas forward.  “The mouthy one is Dorian of House Pavus and the kind one is Solas.”

 

“House Pavus?  You are in the soup, aren’t you lad?”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“Magister Pavus has offered a rather substantial reward for anyone who can bring his erstwhile son home.”

 

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

 

“I never joke about magisters or money,” said Nike.  “It just invites tragedy.”

 

“Does it?” asked Cole.

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Tallis told him.

 

“Lady Nike,” interrupted Cullen.  “If I may.  A contingent of soldiers from Skyhold will be arriving tomorrow and I believe that we need to be ready.  We believe that Corypheus will make his final strike here within the next few days.”

 

“That seems likely,” said Nike before turning to Tallis.  “I’ve been having dreams of this place for months.  It always looks peaceful, but I wake shaking with terror.  I’ve heard him speaking – whispering promises to any mage that will listen.”

 

“I have not experienced such a phenomenon,” said Solas.  “Have you Dorian?”

 

“Nor I – I assume he’s not been speaking to you, Tallis.”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“He can’t get through her music,” said Cole.  “She rings in the Fade, like a harmony of bells, and you cannot hear him over the sound of her.  You just don’t notice because you hear her all the time.”

 

“If you say so, Cole,” said Dorian.

 

“I do say so,” the spirit’s words were very serious, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes and she laughed.

 

“Good one, Cole – we’ll get you a sense of humor yet!”

 

“But will we manage to get him through puberty, that’s the real question,” said Bull.

 

“I do not know that I want puberty, the Iron Bull.  It all seems so very messy when you –”

 

“Cole!” she, Cullen and Dorian chorused out in harmony.

 

“Right.  I’m not supposed to mention sex-things.”  Cole’s brow furrowed.  “But Bull can talk about Cassandra if he wants and say how much he thinks I need puberty.”

 

“Bull is an uncouth savage,” said Tallis.  “He has a special exemption because he’s a jerk like that.”

 

*

 

“So,” said Nike, sitting cross-legged on the tent floor and resting her chin on her hand.  “Your pet Hissrad has special exemptions.”

 

“Eh,” said Tallis.  “He’s the Iron Bull.  He can charm off anyone’s pants.”

 

“Including yours.”

 

Tallis rolled her eyes as she took a seat on the other size of the brazier heating her mother’s tent.

 

“He admitted being a spy to me when he introduced himself.  It seemed prudent to keep him close.  It took weeks of blatant come-ons to get him to consider fucking me casually.  Which, totally worthwhile, if you wanted to take a ride.”

 

Her mother glowered.

 

“It’s rumored that he’s Tal Vashoth.”

 

“Yeah.  Popular lie.  He’ll become Tal Vashoth when darkspawn rule the world and the sun gutters out,” Tallis paused.  “For a Hissrad, he’s not so bad.”

 

“He’ll try to kill you, you know that.”

 

“We both know that, mama.”  Tallis held her mother’s eyes.  “I know that when it’s done – when we’ve defeated Corypheus and the threat is over – he or his viddethari will try and kill me.  I’ve got fair warning and a more than reasonable chance to survive.”

 

“You love him.”

 

“Yeah.  It’s worse for him, though – he loves me, too.  It’s not just the sex, although it’s very good.  He’ll have a hard time of it, even without the fact that I’m not going meekly let myself be put down. If I go down, it’ll be like a rabid dog and they’ll pay _dearly_ for my life.”

 

“I’m not sure if I’m appalled by the way you think about your love life, or if I’m impressed.” said Nike.  “Or both.  I can’t say that I’m happy that you even have to think in those terms, but if you’re in love with a Hissrad, I suppose I’m glad you’ve put some thought into how that relationship is going to break up.”

 

Tallis snorted.

 

“If he fails, that’s going to be a trip to the re-educators, for him and possibly all of his allies.”

 

“He knows.  And he knows that what he feels now will be erased, so I think he’s trying to enjoy it while it lasts.  Aren’t you Bull?” Tallis raised her voice enough to be clearly heard outside.  There was no response but Tallis knew he had to be listening.  “I know that it’s unwise –”

 

“If for no other reason than his reports about your weaknesses –”

 

“—but it’s my choice mama.  The good and the bad.”

 

“That it is, baby girl.”

 

Tallis reached into her tunic and pulled out a scroll of parchment wrapped around a  pair of glass vials and tossed it to her mother as she began an embellished discourse about her time as the fabled ‘Herald of Andraste’ and eventual inquisitor.  Her mother – ever talented at multi-tasking – scanned through the letter while asking questions about Corypheus and his abilities.

 

“So Cullen’s insistence on arming what’s left of the temple isn’t just paranoia,” said Nike, tucking the vials into her belt pouch and then burning the parchment.

 

“Oh, hell no.  I know that you and your men have fought magisters before, but Corypheus is nothing like them.”  Tallis made a face.  “I don’t want much in this life – good food, a good lover, and the undisputed right to beat the shit out of assholes who make life hard for everyone else.  Right now I’ve pretty much got three for three, and Corypheus is the biggest asshole out there.”

 

Nike laughed.

 

“What can we expect, brat?”

 

“Power, and lots of it.  We’ve decimated his army – at least what forces we know about – and what remains is thoroughly tied up on the Arbor Wilds.”  Tallis stared into the burning coals in the brazier.  “If it were me – and fuck knows it isn’t because why take such risks by sacrificing the Grand Cleric? That was just idiotic grandstanding – I would come alone and head up to the breach itself.   Well, to be honest, I’d ride that fucking dragon to the top of the damn mountain, but he craves recognition and he craves submission.”

 

Tallis touched the dragon’s tooth that hung from her gorget.

 

“If he sees too many forces he’ll come down like the wrath of god, too few and he’ll smell a trap.  We’re giving the best protection we can to the few that will serve as decoys, and then we’re going to make every inch of that path as dangerous for him as we can.”

 

“Magebane?” asked Nike.  “It’s shit to fight through.”

 

“Yeah.  Traps – things he’ll see as petty annoyances, but easy to overcome.”  Tallis grinned.  “I want him to feel superior.  I want him to think that we’re weak and stupid.  I want his overconfidence turned up to maximum.  That’s when we hit him and that fucking dragon of his.”

 

Nike raised an eyebrow.  “What, exactly, are you planning to do to him?”

 

“I’m going to rip that fucker’s soul out and I’m going to kick it straight into the Void,” said Tallis.  “Well, if I can figure out how.”

 

 *

 

Dawn found Tallis at the avalanche-destroyed husk of Haven’s Chantry, idly watching Fade-spirits congregate around flashes of what had occurred.

 

“You see them,” said Solas from behind her.  “I cannot say that I had anticipated that you would receive such a gift.”

 

The small spirit of Wonder that had manifested in Skyhold’s rotunda lay draped around his shoulders, a multitude of eyes and strange little pseudopods sprouting from every surface.  It burbled softly, its voice pitched high, like a child’s.  It touched everything, eyes and limbs examining everything it found within reach.

 

Tallis smiled.  “When I care to, yes.”

 

“A remarkable and wondrous talent, Inquisitor.”

 

Tallis tilted her head, saddened.

 

“Solas,” she stopped, sighing.  “Fine, if you must maintain your distance, I’ll stop asking you to use my name.  But… even if you don’t – or won’t – consider yourself my friend, please accept that I’m yours.”

 

“Inquisitor?”

 

Tallis held out her finger for a questing pseudopod to curl around and smiled at the odd little creature.

 

“I don’t know what you are, Solas.  I also don’t care.”  She concentrated on the Spirit of Wonder as it quested its way up her arm, unravelling and reforming around her shoulders with a pleased chirrup.  “You’re an elf and you’re something more.  I have my suspicions – but unless you want to tell me, I’m not going to pursue them unless you make yourself a danger to me and all I hold dear.”

 

“Inquisitor – _Tallis_.”

 

“I can see your shadow, Solas.”  She met his eyes.  “Spirits of Valor cast shadows of Fear.  This little one casts a shadow of Ignorance.  Your shadow.  Well.  It’s not that of an Elf.”

 

Solas gave her a small, sardonic smile.

 

“And your shadow does not take the shape of a Qunari,” said Solas.  “At least, not any longer.”

 

“I’m not surprised.”  Wonder tickled at her hair and then curled itself around her horns in order to anchor itself atop her head.  “So I’ve a question to ask you – as your whole self, even if I’m uncertain of what that is.”

 

Solas narrowed his eyes.  “I’m listening.”

 

“Is there a Void, and what would happen to Corypheus if I sent his soul there?”

 

Solas hesitated.

 

“If push comes to shove, I know I can put his spirit in the Fade, but that seems rather counter-productive,” Tallis noted clinically.  “We can’t risk it lingering or finding its way into another host.  Trapping it, while theoretically possible, simply invites the remnants of the Venatori to try and release him.  It will be bad enough to destroy his physical body without having to enter the Fade and then kill him again there – although I will, if I have to.”

 

“No,” said Solas.  “That would be impractical and unduly taxing upon all of us.”

 

Tallis raised an eyebrow.  “Solas, if that’s the solution, I’m not exactly intending to bring any of you with me.”

 

“Inquisitor –”

 

She held up a hand.  “You’d be perfectly capable of monitoring and knowing if I succeeded or not.”

 

His mouth snapped closed.

 

“That is not the optimal solution at all.”

 

“I didn’t say it was.”

 

He sighed, shoulders drooping.

 

“The Void is very real.  But I do not know that it is ideal for your purposes.  It is possible for a spirit to escape imprisonment there.”

 

“So what are our options?”

 

“We destroy his soul.”  Solas’ mouth twisted unhappily.  “It can be done, given sufficient power and will, but it… marks the doer, irrevocably.”

 

“Is it something that would turn me into a megalomaniacal fuckwit with delusions of godhood?”

 

“No,” said Solas.  “But it would hurt you, from now until the very end of days.”

 

“Eternal torment?”  Tallis considered that.  “Anything that would keep me from living my life?”

 

Solas shook his head.

 

“Seems a small enough price to pay.”

 

“I’ve said it before, Inquisitor, you are a remarkable being.”  He closed his eyes.  “Very well, I will show you what you will need to do.”

 

“Thank you, Solas.”

 

“Do not thank me,” he opened his eyes and within them lurked a strange misery.  “Not for this.”

 

*

 

The rest of the day was spent hashing out the logistics of their trap.  A company of Skyhold’s soldiers made its way down the mountain, clad in siverite and volcanic aurum, and Nike gave a low whistle.

 

“If Celene had any sense she’d be terrified of you, if this is what you put your common soldiers in.”

 

“These aren’t common soldiers, but yes – she would be wise to fear us.” Tallis bit her lip.  “Fuck knows I’m afraid of her.”

 

Her mother stared at her a moment.  “Good girl.  I had wondered.”

 

“Oh, I showed her up at her own party and I knew exactly what I was doing at the time.”  Tallis smiled bitterly.  “Celene needed me in order to stay on her throne and she knows it.  Once my use is at an end, she’ll do her best to make me a pillar and not a crutch – which, no – or kill me.  Orlais has been terribly weakened and the whole of the world knows it.”

 

“And she can’t continuously use you as a crutch, as you are neutral and cannot militarily intervene in an open war.”

 

“Exactly.”  Tallis turned her eyes to the company’s sergeant, who had flagged down the Legion’s quartermaster.  “That said, I hope you don’t mind taking your payment in the most advanced armor we’ve been able to come up with – not that we don’t have coin, but I’d like to ensure that we take the fewest casualties possible.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“I’m outfitting your men in the same armor we’re outfitting ours with.  You can have it enameled with the Legion’s emblem later.”

 

“Are you crazy?”

 

“No. Corypheus is a crazy – and disgustingly powerful – mage who will delight in killing our people to harvest their energy.  So, if we can prevent that at all, I’m a real fan of it.”

 

“You could hire us for what, five or ten years with the value of that armor.”

 

“I wouldn’t say no to you sticking around, mama, but that’s not why I’m doing this.  I’d’ve outfitted the Chargers if they were the ones here.”

 

“We’ll talk about it after the fight,” said Nike.  “If you’re actually willing to part with it.”

 

“We’re making more and we have a large number of mines under our control.” Tallis’ lips curved in a wintery smile.  “And Celene can suck it if she thinks we’re giving them back.”

 

“You’re picking a fight.”

 

“Eh.  Whatever.”

 

“Don’t let all this power go to your head, baby.  I know I taught you better than that.”

 

“I know mama.”  Tallis sighed.  “We’re not done.  Even once we take out Corypheus, we won’t be done.  Corypheus can migrate his soul from body to body, mama.  And while I have a solution to prevent him from doing it ever again, there were _multiple_ magisters that went to the so-called Golden City.”

 

Nike stared at her in mute shock.

 

“There are more?”

 

“Corypheus hid himself for a couple of years before choosing to manifest in this way.  There’s no guarantee that there aren’t others.”

 

“Maker, Mythal, and all holy things preserve us,” muttered Nike.

 

“I know, right?”  Tallis looked down at her hand.  “As long as I continue to breathe, I will do my best to track them down and take them out.  It’s not done until that threat is completely gone, mama.”

 

“Oh, baby.”  Tallis didn’t resist as her mother pulled her into a loose embrace.  “Fate has not been kind to you.”

 

Tallis forced herself to smile.  “Mama, it’s okay.  Well, not okay, really, but it is what it is.  Corypheus comes first and I’ll worry about the rest later.”

 

“Right.  We’ll get our men outfitted and working their way up the mountain.  Are you certain of where the final fight will be?”

 

“Sort of – we can’t actually let him enter the temple and reach the location of the original wound in the veil.  He can try and tear the breach open from the outside, but that will be much, much harder and take more time.  I’m hoping to drive him to incoherency, because he starts fighting like a toddler when he’s really worked up.”

 

“That doesn’t make him less destructive.”

 

“No – but toddlers do not make the best tactical decisions out there, so…” Tallis shrugged.

 

“Point taken.”

 

“Mama, can I crash out in your tent?”

 

“If you need to, why?”

 

“’m tired and I need a nap.”

 

Nike rolled her eyes.  “Go.  Your Cullen and I can take care of this.”

 

“He’s not my Cullen,” said Tallis.  “Belongs to himself and shares only sparingly.  Except with Dorian.  Pretty sure he shares a lot with Dorian.”

 

“Get some sleep, baby girl.”

 

“Still not a baby, mama.”


	11. A Many Splendor'd Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is the way you are, innit?” Sera leaned forward, eyes bright in the firelight. “’s why you give people chances, an’ why you take out them as is causin’ pain. ’Course we know you love us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some bits of dialogue adapted from the game. It appears that I'm close to rounding third and heading for home.

Tallis fell asleep to the familiar sound of her mother tending to her weapons, falling into the Fade between one breath and the next. She wasn’t surprised to find that the sound carried over into her dreams, although the cadence of the whetstone shifted, strokes becoming longer and oddly thoughtful.

The dream-memory of the small cabin she’d grown up in before the Ben-Hassrath came was filled with warm light. A spirit-born memory of her father sat beside it, sharpening the sword that Tallis would one day hold when she killed for the first time outside of the fade. She smiled softly – this wasn’t the nightmare of her twelfth naming day, just a warm, comforting memory.

Tallis stood and stretched, walking over to kiss the memory of her father upon his cheek, thinking of how young he looked – how young he had actually been when he fell to the Ben-Hassrath. Her rage about that night had long since been conquered, but not the bittersweet sorrow. That she held as precious, tucking it close to her heart.

Her connection to the Well shifted, brushing the feeling with gentle tendrils before subsiding. Tallis shook her head, heading out of the door and into less formed areas of the Fade.

“You like it here.” Cole appeared beside her as she chose a random path to walk.

“I do,” said Tallis. “Both the dream of my father and the Fade in general.”

“The mages at Skyhold don’t,” said Cole, his form flickering gently between the spirit-boy she knew and an odd, incomprehensible ball of emotional angles. “They fear it. But you don’t. Neither does Dorian.”

“Nor Morrigan, I’d wager.” Tallis reached out to him and pulled him close. “Circle mages are taught to fear it and their connection to it.”

Cole nodded, leaning into her.

“It loves you, too,” said Cole. “It rings with it. I wish you could hear it, too.”

“Maybe I will, someday.”

They walked companionably through an improbable forest, the trees of the Arbor Wilds blooming amidst the cedar and spruce that grew beneath Skyhold.

“You’ve never visited my dreams before, Cole.”

He said nothing, merely tightening the arm he had around her waist. Tallis looked down, and could see his lips curving in an unhappy frown. She stopped walking, pulling him into a full embrace.

“Cole.”

“He wants to kill you.” The words whispered against her collarbone and Tallis placed a kiss upon the crown of his head. “He wants to hurt you and make you pay for all the changes that he doesn’t remember the world making.”

“And you’re afraid he’ll succeed.”

Cole nodded against her breast, hugging her more tightly.

“It hurts. It hurts _me._ ”

“I can’t promise not to die,” said Tallis. “Or that I won’t be hurt. I couldn’t promise those things even if Corypheus didn’t exist. All I can promise is that I will fight – and keep fighting. That I will never willingly surrender to him.”

“It’s not fair.”

She had to laugh at that, spoken so much like a petulant teen.

“Welcome to the world of flesh and bone, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Cole pulled slightly away, and she could see a tiny quirk of his lips.

“No, you’re not.” Tallis tilted his chin up so she could look into the pale, lake-side eyes that always reflected a strange, alien sky. “But you’re still new to this. It must be hard.”

“There’s more of me,” said Cole. “More things to think. To feel. Everything’s so far away, beyond the sea of me. It’s new, the fear – sharp, stinging, like a jar of bees. Hard to ignore, hard to face.”

“It’s okay to be afraid, you know.” Tallis could feel the fade shifting, the high walls of Skyhold forming strong and whole around them. Cole sat in a crenel, facing outward toward the mountains and she found herself leaning against the nearby merlon as ravens swooped in looping patterns to and from the library tower.

“I was never afraid before,” said Cole. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Face it,” she told him. “Name it. It won’t stop you from feeling it, but it’s the first step to finding control.”

He turned to look at her. “The Nightmare Demon had no fears to put on your tombstone.”

“There was nothing new for him to name.” She leaned back against the merlon and stared up into the infinity of Fade and sky. “I know my fears – I work hard to know and face them all.”

“So demons won’t have a way in.”

“So demons won’t have a way in,” she agreed, turning her head to look at him. From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of black streak through the empty courtyard. “What was that?”

“She wasn’t expecting to be here. He’s gone, he’s gone – _this should not be._ Where is he?”

“Keiran! _Keiran!”_

Morrigan’s voice reverberated through Tallis’ chest, sending a spike of ice spearing through her.

Fear of loss, fear of failure, fear for Morrigan and her child.

Tallis took a deep breath, calming the emotional surge.

“So that’s how it’s done,” said Cole, head tilting like a bird’s. “You feel it, but you don’t let it overwhelm you.”

_“Keiran!”_

“You let it pass through and then you move on.” His voice deepened a little and he nodded. “Yes. I see.”

_“Keiran!”_

“He’s not here, though there is a path nearby,” said Cole. “He’s not hurt or afraid. He’s… happy.”

“Cole.”

Cool, lake water eyes focused past her for a moment and he shuddered. “Help her, Tallis. I… can’t. It isn’t my task.”

He vanished before Tallis could respond. Tallis took hold of the Fade, translating her sense of self to a place beside Morrigan. It’s strange to see her here, stark and heavy with _reality_ in a way that Tallis herself does not feel.

“You’re physically here,” said Tallis, causing Morrigan to whip unsteadily around.

“I came through the Eluvian – it should not have led here, it should have gone to the crossroads!” A small moue settled upon Morrigan’s lips. “And you should be but a construct of the Fade, yet you are not.”

“Unlike some people, I’m actually asleep.”

“A likely story,” said Morrigan. “The sun has barely kissed the horizon.”

“It’s called a nap, Morrigan.” Tallis waved to where she could see the active Eluvian. “What’s going on?”

“Keiran has disappeared. I found the Eluvian active in its store-room and followed.”

“Without alerting anyone or bringing some kind of back up?”

“I sent a runner to Princess Stabbity-Stab, I’m not a fool. Keiran has not the strength to awaken an Eluvian, thus it must have been done from this side, which I had not believed to be possible.”

“Doors often open from both sides.”

“I had seen no evidence that this was so for these devices,” Morrigan snapped. “Else I would have been far more careful. Had I known that Keiran would be in danger from it, I would not have had it so near to him and without guards in place.”

“I – never mind.” The fact that this made the damned thing a security hole for _Skyhold_ could be dealt with later. “Let’s go find him then.”

Morrigan stared at her askance.

“I’m sleeping, not incompetent. We should go before my mother wakes me from my nap. Please, Morrigan, let me help.”

“Very well.” Morrigan stared at the open gate. “If he is not within the fortress, he must be without.”

“Makes sense,” said Tallis.

They walked through the gate and into what should have been the unformed Fade – but was not. A path formed beneath their feet; well-trodden earth, packed hard between ancient cobbles of worn granite, lead into a swamp that seemed both familiar and strange. Morrigan made a small, strangled sound as they spiraled inward, cobbles giving way to barely marked dirt paths lined with odd statues.

“Familiar?” Tallis guessed as Morrigan’s skin paled from moonlight to bone.

“Yes.”

They came around a final curve to see an ancient hut of clay and wattle and bits of wood. A fire burned fitfully in a circle of smooth river-stones where Keiran sat beside what appeared to be a woman, clearly enthralled by whatever it was she was saying. Tallis paused, eyes narrowing. Like Morrigan, Keiran and the woman held a sense of weighted immutability, of a solidity that did not belong in the unchanging variability of the Fade.

“Mother,” Morrigan hissed.

The woman looked up, revealing a long, arresting face surrounded by improbable arches of silver-white hair. Her golden, predator’s eyes gleamed in the firelight, holding untold ages within fierce, unyielding depths. Something twisted within Tallis, and then unfurled with bittersweet pain, the restless power of the Well blossoming within her.

“Mythal.”

“How heartwarming, family reunion.” Mythal smiled, rising to stand slightly in front of Keiran. “It has been far too long.”

“Release him! Keiran is not yours to have.”

“As though I have kidnapped him, or am holding him hostage.” Mythal met Tallis’ gaze. “She has ever been ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? _Ungrateful?_ ’Tis not _I_ , you wicked, deceitful creature, that would take the bodies of credulous children to extend her life. I have read your grimoire and I know what you planned for me. I will not have it! Not for me, nor for _my son.”_ Morrigan gestured sharply, power crackling wildly in her palm.

“Be still, girl! You will endanger the boy.” Mythal waved a hand, careless and easy, and the raging torrent of Morrigan’s strength dissipated, like mist. Morrigan stumbled back, eyes wide, and her breath came in halting gasps.

“What... what have you done to me?”

“I? Nothing, you _credulous_ child – you chose to drink from the Well yourself.”

“You are… Mythal?”

“Did you not hear your friend?” The curve of Mythal’s smile glinted, sharp as a dragon’s tooth. “It has been an aeon since any has borne the burden of Sorrow, longer still since my sister has graced anyone with her blessing. Truly, a reunion of note.”

“You cannot be Mythal,” Morrigan protested.

“How is it then, that I am supposed to be something other than what I am, girl? Fade and fate are not so unkind as to deny me my self.”

Tallis shifted slightly, so she could try to meet Kieran’s gaze. The boy’s dark eyes flicked between his mother and Mythal, wide and overfull, his small body hunched and faintly shivering.

“Are you all right, Kieran?” Tallis knelt, opening her arms in silent offering. The boy ran to her, small arms wrapping in a strangle-hold around her throat.

"I'm all right,” he said, barely audible. “It's just that she's been calling me. Calling and calling. As long as I can remember. And… I knew. _She_ said now was the time.”

“Keiran,” said Morrigan, voice breaking.

He turned his head, his short, silky hair brushing Tallis’ chin. “I’m sorry mother. But I had to come.”

“You have done nothing wrong.” Morrigan crouched down, brushing her lips gently across his brow. “’Tis I who should apologize, but I feared for you.   I would know you safe, my son, my darling Keiran.”

Keiran nodded, hand reaching out to touch Morrigan’s cheek even as she rose.

“Mother please, leave him be.” Morrigan stepped forward, habitual arrogance erased. Her long, loose-limbed stride lacked its usual grace, yet each footfall was perfectly, elegantly placed. Morrigan slid to her knees, head bowed for one, brief instant, fists clenching against her stomach before opening; fragile flowers blooming in heartfelt supplication. “Take me if you must; claim my body and my life if you would have them, but I beg you – leave my Keiran alone.” Morrigan raised her face, eyes full and expression empty. “Whatever else he is – whatever else we… _I_ created him to be, he is _my son_ and I would not… _will not_ be to him what you were to me.”

Morrigan’s eyes slid closed, chin dropping to her chest as Mythal abortively raised a hand, as though to touch her daughter’s hair. Tallis hastily averted her eyes as Mythal’s mouth softened into a soundless ‘o’; a mere whisper of exhalation as for an instant Mythal’s defenses crumbled, leaving her open and unguarded.

“Once,” Mythal murmured, “once I was a woman. My heart burned with rage and hate, fires fueled with the need for vengeance. I had been betrayed – brutalized and confined, everything taken from me. My love, my children, my heart, my hope. As I lay, broken and bleeding, her voice found me in my shivering dark, and promised me everything I wanted and more. She had known betrayal as I had known betrayal – as the _world_ had known betrayal, and all I needed to do was give her shelter and _both_ of us would find our vengeance.”

“You are Flemeth,” said Tallis, raising her eyes to meet Mythal’s. “I’ve heard some of the stories. You’re lucky, it might have been a desire demon.”

Mythal barked a laugh, steps silent upon the hard-packed earth as she came forward to touch Keiran’s shoulder.

“And I am Mythal.” Tallis felt Keiran tilt his head up even as Mythal went down to one knee. For a moment, power swirled, gentle and welcoming, and a bubble of radiant, blue-white light burst forth from Keiran’s chest. It hovered for a moment, before vanishing into Mythal’s delicate grasp.

“No more dreams?” he breathed, soft and entreating.

“No more dreams,” Mythal agreed, standing. “You and your mother can return home, Keiran, with no more worry concerning me.”

“But I’ll miss you,” said Keiran, pulling away from Tallis to wrap his arms around Mythal’s waist. Mythal’s head bowed as she returned the embrace, hard and fierce, lips pressed upon his brow.

“And I you, little one.” Mythal stepped back, turning to brush a hand along her daughter’s cheek. “I release you from your service, daughter.”

“Mother?”

“A soul cannot be forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan.” Mythal’s lips curved in a bittersweet smile, turning away toward the unformed Fade. “You were never in danger from me.”

Morrigan surged to her feet, reaching out, fingers barely missing the fall of snow-bright hair. “Mother. Please. I don’t understand.”

Mythal hesitated without turning.

“Listen to the voices, Morrigan. Let them teach you.” Mythal resumed her steps. “Let them teach you… as I never did.”

“Wait..!”

*

Tallis woke with a gasp, ice water soaking her clothes.

“What the fuck?” She sat up, glaring at her mother before loosing a flicker of power to dry herself. “Mama, what the hell?”

“You wouldn’t wake up,” said Nike, with an unrepentant smirk. “I thought you might want get some dinner while it’s hot and ready. Your troops made good time down the mountain and we’ve been having a bit of a time getting them bivouacked without making it look like you’ve brought an army.”

Tallis snorted, standing up. “I was having… and interesting dream.”

“Must have been.” Nike frowned at her. “You’re usually not so unresponsive when you’re in the Fade, Tallis.”

“I was… busy. With a thing.”

“Busy with a thing.” Tallis returned her mother’s narrow-eyed look with a superbly innocent smile and Nike laughed.

“Fine, don’t tell me, but that look hasn’t fooled anyone since before your father died.”

“I know.”

They exited the tent and headed to the cook fires.

“Your Commander has a good head on his shoulders,” Nike said, nodding to where the Cullen stood with a couple of his lieutenants. “He knows the area well and has already sent men up the trail to lay the traps you wanted. He sent up some dwarves – they’re going to collapse the tunnel into the shrine itself. If Corypheus is as powerful as you say, he’ll likely be able to get through, but it will cost him time and energy.”

“Excellent!” She waved at Cullen as he looked up and he flashed her a sweet smile.

Nike grunted.

“Tell me you’ve tapped that,” her mother muttered, _sotto voce_ , “because if you haven’t it’s a bloody crime.”

_“Mama!”_ Tallis choked, swallowing laughter as she took a bowl of stew from one of the cooks. “You’re terrible!”

“Please,” said Nike in a more normal tone. “The man is absurdly pretty.”

“No, my dear lady, _I_ am absurdly pretty. My dear commander is simply sublime.” Dorian popped his head between them.

“It’s true,” said Tallis, falling back a half step to elbow Dorian in the ribs. “You _are_ absurdly pretty.”

“That’s the Tevinter breeding program for you, lots of pretty, pretty men with nary a thought between them but hedonism and heresy.”

“No wonder you didn’t fit it, what with the hedonism and _heroism_ you’re so terribly afflicted with.”

“Well, yes,” said Dorian. “House Pavus has always prided itself on being at least a trifle different from the rest.”

Nike snorted.

“My dear Tallis, I would like to say that this is a social call, but Cassandra and the rest have finally arrived, and that vicious raven that belongs to our Lady of the Nightbird’s Song has chosen to alight upon Bull’s horns and refuses to allow anyone to touch it.”

“Duty calls,” said Tallis and her mother waved them off before settling beside one of the Inquisition recruits.

“Your mother is a remarkable woman,” said Dorian as they wended their way back to the cooks, collecting a couple of wooden trays and enough bowls of stew for her most intimate companions. “Said you’d decided on a bit of a rest before setting upon Cullen like the wrath of a hurricane.”

Tallis grinned at him. “That’s my mum. She’s utterly terrifying, once you get to know her.”

“So, a bit like you, then. Ah, ah! No jostling the food!”

Cassandra looked up from where she sat beside one of the camp fires and smiled.

“And so they come to us, saving us from the ravages of the commissariat.”

Bull snorted, taking a bowl from Tallis before she moved on to Varric. Cullen slid out of the flickering shadows, stealing one of Dorian’s bowls before claiming a brief kiss. Sera hooted and Blackwall gave a brief grunt. Cole appeared with more stew, earning Solas’ thanks.

“Where’s Vivienne?” asked Tallis, settling in beside Bull, setting her bowl aside as Leliana’s raven hopped from Bull’s horn to her shoulder. It was the work of a moment to take the message tube from the bird’s leg and it launched immediately, ebony wings carrying it back toward Skyhold.

_All defenses ready_. Tallis tossed the scrap of parchment into the fire.

“Madame de Fer chose to stay at Skyhold, and Leliana agreed.” Cassandra’s mouth puckered, sour. “We do not know what forces Corypheus might bring, and it was felt that at least one of our ‘superlative battle mages’ should stay behind for the protection of the Keep.”

“Morrigan was okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” Cassandra glanced at her. “Lady Morrigan was as acerbic as ever, but made no objection.”

Tallis picked up her bowl, stirring her stew thoughtfully as she made sure it was heated to her tastes.

“Oh, just imagining the barely-polite, superior sniping between the two of them – after all, Morrigan is a superbly talented battle mage.”

“It is true,” said Solas, staring into the fire before glancing up with a small, sly smile. “Like me, Morrigan is an apostate, but her training is superb, well beyond what the circles offer their mages.”

Tallis snorted. “’My dear, I sense a small wave of interference at the leading edge of your ice spells. The waveform should be smooth, which you would have known if you had been properly trained in a Circle.’”

Solas chuckled. “You’ve gotten that lecture, too?”

“And a dozen others.”

Dorian laughed, leaning into Cullen. “Ah, so it’s not merely the ’vint she wishes to educate?”

“Hardly,” said Tallis, setting aside her empty bowl, feeling warm and pleasantly full. “I know that we’ve got to talk strategy, but…”

“Hey, none of that, your Inquisitorialness.” Varric offered up a bright smile. “Most of us are here. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but for tonight we’ve got each other.”

“Yeah.” Bull’s arm came around her waist, pulling her close. Moisture welled up behind her eyes, exquisite sadness swelling beneath her breast.

“I love you guys,” Tallis blurted, flushing as tears spilled over. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said it to you.”

“Inquisitor?” asked Cassandra, and Tallis gave a watery laugh.

“For fuck’s sake, call me Tallis, Cass.”

“You may not have said it, Caputalis,” said Solas. “But you’ve always _shown_ us and all of the Inquisition. We know how much you love, Inquisitor.”

“We do,” said Cullen, echoed softly by Dorian, their fingers laced together.

“Is the way you are, innit?” Sera leaned forward, eyes bright in the firelight. “’s why you give people chances, an’ why you take out them as is causin’ pain. ’Course we know you love us. Even that starchy bint, Vivienne has t’ know _that_ , what with how she knows everythin’.”

“I remember when they called on the armies to go to Denerim,” said Cullen quietly, staring into the fire, his knuckles white where they clenched Dorian’s hand. “I was… not in the best state of mind when they called up the mages that remained in the tower. But I remember the feeling. The Archdemon had made itself _known_. There was no longer any doubt that we were truly facing a Blight, no matter what Teryn Loghain had claimed at the beginning. We knew that… that we had two Grey Wardens and an army of fodder to fight against a terrible evil.”

“You need not speak of it, amatus.” Dorian brought Cullen’s hand to his lips. “It does not do to dwell.”

Cullen lifted his free hand to touch Dorian’s cheek, leaning in to steal a kiss so sweet that Tallis had to look away.

“No, Dorian, I promise, it doesn’t hurt to speak of it.” Cole hummed with pleased agreement, causing everyone to chuckle.

“What I mean to say is, we knew that we faced impossible odds. We knew – and it didn’t matter. One of those Wardens was Elissa Cousland and by the time the Archdemon came, there were few in Ferelden that wouldn’t have walked through fire for her. We did not doubt her.” Tallis met Cullen’s eyes across the fire, and saw him smile, open and sweet. “This is much the same, yet it is different. This time we will walk through fire for ourselves, because you have shown us that. We will face Corypheus and his dragon not because an amazing woman has promised to give herself to defend us, but because we will see him pay for his crimes against us, against Thedas… against _you._ ” Cullen’s smile softened. “We love you, too, Tallis. Whatever we can do to help you – that’s what we will do.”

His words dropped into a gentle silence, the fire crackling softly as Tallis’ breath hitched.


	12. Honest Illusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s been a beautiful illusion, Hissrad. A lovely dream, and soon we’ll have to wake up.”

“Right,” Tallis said, brushing tears from her eyes with an impatient hand. “Right, so, emotional breakdowns aside, if you would report, Commander.”

Bull’s arm tightened briefly around her waist, but he let her pull away as she sat up.

“Our people are positioned along the path, Inquisitor. All are volunteers without family.” Cullen held her eyes, though his knuckles clenched white in Dorian’s grasp. “They know the risks of directly facing Corypheus. We have laid a number of traps – mostly obvious, at Lady Nike’s insistence.”

Tallis nodded.

“Good, with luck he’ll think that we’re stupidly inept.”

“We have some men in hidden positions to trigger the more… subtle obstacles.” Cullen coughed a bit. “Tallis, some of them include magebane and I am concerned that they might affect you, Dorian and Solas.”

Solas raised an eyebrow and glanced at Tallis.

“Do not be concerned, Commander, such areas can be purged with fire before we ascend."

Dorian lifted Cullen’s hand to his lips. “Worry not, amatus. For now you can mark the areas on a map, and in the morning, provided Corypheus is kind enough to leave us time enough to sleep, you can lead us up the trail and show us.”

“Yes, of course.” Cullen sighed. “My main concern is the issue of the dragon. I know that that you have all become quite adept at dragon slaying, but that creature is nothing like the dragons you have been confronting in the wild.”

“That,” said Morrigan as she melted out of the darkness, “will be _my_ task.”

Tallis looked up into feral, golden eyes.

“But not alone,” said Tallis firmly. “Bull, Sera, Blackwall – I want you to be Morrigan’s support.”

“While you go on to the bad guy, boss?” Bull turned to her. “I don’t like it, Kadan.”

“You don’t have to,” Tallis told him. “This isn’t like the Temple. My advantage at the Well was that he’d already died once and his reserves were depleted. His advantage was that the dragon was outside, so that when I took his head, his soul had a place to migrate to. I have faith in Morrigan’s ability to fight the dragon – but not that she can take it and deal with Corypheus taking shots at her. I’m taking Dorian, Cole, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric with me to keep Corypheus distracted. When the dragon is dead, you lot can reinforce us.”

“Gonna be some serious magey shit, innit?” said Sera.

“Well, Coreypheus is a serious Magey shit himself, isn’t he?”

Everyone stared at Varric for a moment and began laughing.

“You will have the support of our troops as well,” said Cullen, somehow managing to regain a serious expression. “There are a number of open areas we think Corypheus may retreat through, and with the assistance of Nike’s Legion, we have sufficient troops to hide nearby.”

“Ah,” said Morrigan. “So we might be able to choose a place for me to force my opponent down, if I cannot take it in the air. That seems a wise precaution, Ser Rutherford, Inquisitor.”

“She likes to be called Tallis,” Cole scolded, appearing beside Morrigan with a larger bowl of stew than any of them had had, and a loaf of fresh, fragrant bread. “You should eat. It was your first time, and it took more energy than you expected.”

Morrigan’s mouth dropped open, her hands seeming to take the proffered food out of reflex.

“I… thank you. Cole.”

Cole beamed at Morrigan before coming over and dropping down next to Tallis and resting his head against her knee. Tallis brushed her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly and Cole hummed.

“I still don’t like it, boss.”

Bull’s fist lay clenched upon his knee. Tallis bumped his shoulder with hers, covering his fist with a gentle hand.

“I need that dragon dead, Bull, and I trust you to take it out. Cassandra has skills that are better suited to taking out a mage, and even Corypheus cannot destroy a target that he cannot see,” Tallis gave Cole an extra skritch and he _purred_. “I will keep his focus upon me, Dorian and Varric will rain death upon him, and Solas will help keep us all standing.”

“Indeed,” said Solas throwing a sardonic glance in her direction. “Although Dorian’s healing skills have grown, so I’ve no doubt that he’ll be able to assist. Despite that small interference pattern he seems intent on generating when casting them.”

“I beg your pardon,” Dorian protested, laughing. “Well, no. He’s right, although there’s naught I can do about it. Healing magics and necromancy do not usually go hand in hand, after all.”

“And they function well enough,” said Cassandra. “It reminds me of home. Always that odd little burst on the skin before the magic spreads.”

“Ah, do I make you homesick for Nevarra, Seeker?”

“No.” Cassandra’s lips twitched. “ _That_ would be the tiny spice cakes that Josephine never orders enough of at parties.”

“We have those in Minrathos, too,” said Dorian. “But not those awful ones with the deep mushroom. The Orlesians are right about them being a pure misery.”

The two sighed and Tallis felt Bull’s hand relax beneath hers, before turning, palm up, to thread his fingers through hers.

“I’m sorry, boss. I shouldn’t have questioned,” he said quietly. “I still don’t like it, but you’re right.”

Tallis bit her lip, barely holding back a tart remark about how _she_ is not the _Qun_. Instead, she tightened her hand upon his, leaning in to brush their lips together. Sorrow welled up, bittersweet within her chest. Cole made a small sound of protest at her side, sliding away without a sound.

“Walk with me,” she whispered against Bull’s lips, ignoring Sera’s cat-calls and Varric’s gentle ribbing.

“All right.” He stood, still holding her hand, and she nodded to them all as she rose as well.

“Cullen, I want a tour of our defenses in the morning. Everyone – get some rest. I’m no seer, but I believe that Corypheus will attack, and soon. Take…” she swallowed, lifting her voice just a little, pitching it to carry. “Take what comfort you can, while you can, for darkness is greatest before the dawn.”

She looked at Cullen and Dorian, and smiled a bit as Cullen ducked his head, blushing a little. She gave Varric a conspiratorial wink and a solemn nods to Cassandra and Blackwall. Sera stuck her tongue out at her and Tallis blew a raspberry right back, sending the elf into a fit of giggles as her gaze moved to Morrigan, who offered an unexpected, open smile. Her eyes sought Cole and she pulled up every ounce of love and unalloyed joy that she could and pushed it at him, happiness swelling her heart as she saw his eyes close in bliss. Tallis turned her gaze outward, to the faces she could see in the flickering dark beyond the circle of their fire, some real, some spirit, some the shadow of memory.

“But know this, the dawn _will_ come. We have learned what we can do together, Elf and Dwarf, Human and Kossith; Dalish, Andrastean, Qunari, or Stone – it is our differences that make us stronger. _That_ is our strength, and that strength will carry us through! I have faith in you all and whatever sacrifices we make will not be in vain.” Her words rippled out on the wave of her conviction, rolling over friends and soldiers alike in an endless, repeating tide. She turned and sought Solas’ eyes, holding his gaze, firm and unyielding. “This is _not_ the end of the world, but the beginning of it. We will _strive_. We _will_ survive! And from these ashes we will grow something new, something better, for _all_ of Thedas.”

Blades sang as they came from sheathes, raised high beneath the shimmering light of moon and stars.

“Inquisition!” called Cullen, standing, no less the Commander for all that he had Dorian attached to him like a limpet.

Solas gave her a wry smile.

“Good speech, boss,” said Bull as they passed through the gathered soldiers and up toward the remains of Haven.

“Was it?”

“I liked the bit where you used that song Mother Giselle likes – gonna hear them singing it soon, I’d bet.”

“Maybe,” said Tallis, turning left as they passed the old gate. By some miracle, the group of huts by the palisade had survived the crashing snow of the avalanche, and had needed only minimal repair when the Chargers had come down to excavate Haven.   “I hope it gives them ease.”

“It will.”

Tallis stopped and stared at the hut she’d convalesced in after the first attempt to close the Breach, remembering both the moment of despair when she’d wakened, the strange glow in her hand a screaming discord in her flesh, and understood that the job wasn’t done.

She remembered the face of the elven girl who’d woken her and felt a stab of grief that she could no longer recall the girl’s name, though it was written in the rolls of the dead on the monument outside. She remembered the tears she’d shed in that first moment she’d had alone since waking in chains.

Her best friend, fellow soldiers, all dead in the explosion.

No one had ever asked who she had lost.

“Boss?”

“Boss isn’t here right now,” said Tallis, pulling him toward one of the shelters that _wasn’t_ the Maker forsaken hut where she’d had to purge her pain and despair on her own.

“Kadan,” he breathed, pulling her abruptly close. “I thought –”

“What, that my mum would convince me not to love you? That I would suddenly find what you are repulsive?” Tallis leaned into his warmth and laughed softly. “Don’t be an idiot, Hissrad.”

“Don’t _call_ me that.”

Bull pulled away so abruptly that she stumbled, catching herself on the doorframe as he pushed his way inside.

“I don’t know that I want to be that anymore, Kadan.”

“Don’t you?” asked Tallis, closing the door and making her way to the small fireplace, feeling grateful that there was some wood. A flick of the wrist and flames glowed cheerfully upon the hearth. “What would you rather be? Isskari? Salit? _Tallis?_ But no, your Tama was right, you were born to be what you are under the Qun.”

He stared at her, silent, hands clenching and unclenching, over and over before he looked away.

“Do you think I don’t know you?” Tallis asked, frustrated. “Do you really think me ignorant?”

Bull shook.

“How can you?” He turned away, clenched hands tucked beneath his arms. “I am of the _Ben-Hassrath_. And you are Vashoth, _bas_ –”

“Oh, come on, I’m at least _basalit-an_ –”

“— _bas-saarebas._ If you know what I’ve done, what I’ve done, what I’ve been to those like you –”

“My father was _Arvaarad_ , Hissrad. And _Tallis_ before that.” She placed a gentle hand upon his back. “Yet my mother loved him before they left the Qun. Collared. Chained. Lips sewn together as a _gentle_ reminder that she was not to speak, for none could trust that the words from her mouth would not be those of a demon.”

He stilled utterly beneath her hand.

“He was strong, my papa. And kind. The stray, the injured, the hopeless – he was a magnet for them. And despite the danger, he would always help them. Tavern brawls to protect the bullied, a safe house and a path through the forest for the hunted. Even when he suspected _viddathari._ He was dedicated, my papa. The heart of the many.” Tallis laughed. “He had a sense of humor, and of irony. He was the _worst_ farmer you ever saw – plants died for the misfortune of being in his presence. But his sword _danced_ in the morning light and he loved us with everything he had in him. I can hardly be blamed for loving a _Hissrad_ who is so much like him.”

“ _He_ left the Qun for your mother.”

“No. He left the Qun for himself.”

Silence fell in bloody shards and Tallis lifted her hand from his skin.

“But you love the Qun for all your doubts,” she said quietly. “You would’ve let your Chargers fall on that beach, and taken the wound to your soul, just as you let that Dreadnought die because I couldn’t bear it. _Those_ Qunari soldiers meant nothing to me, and I let them die at the hands of our enemies because I cared more about men I knew than those I didn’t. _You_ are of the Qun and I’m not.”

“Kadan.”

“It’s been a beautiful illusion, _Hissrad_. A lovely dream, and soon we’ll have to wake up.” Tallis stepped away, toward the fire. “But don’t think I’m ignorant. Mama raised me to be the thing that demons fear, but papa taught me to be the _person_ that loves the whole, not just parts. I know you. You are The Iron Bull. You are Hissrad. You are _hopelessly_ Qunari. I love you anyway.”

“You shouldn’t.” Wide, warm hands settled on her shoulders. “The Iron Bull would settle down for you. He’d take jobs closer to Skyhold and squabble with your mother about working for ’vints. He’d watch you grow round with child and laugh while you bitched him out when you birthed them. He’d probably manage to figure out how to hold a baby and raise one, and die happy at your side, kicking some deserving fucker’s ass.”

Tallis shivered at the pure want in his tone.

“But Hissrad… he’d become _Arvaarad_ for you, but…”

“He would never hear me speak again,” Tallis closed her eyes as he turned her into his arms. “They’d take my tongue and break my will, and that _Arvaarad_ would spend his life remembering someone else, someone different.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to wake up,” Tallis muttered, resting her cheek upon his breast, unable to look up and meet his eyes. “Can I have an illusion, Hissrad? That there’s a future? Just until we take him down. Void, even just until morning.”

“You can have anything you want, _Kadan_.” The steady beat of his heart thrummed against her ear as she felt him begin to undo the straps of her armor. “This is our place, where we’re going to grow strong together. There are those who don’t approve, but we don’t care. We’re safe and we’re whole and we’re going to make babies for Krem to make dolls for…”

Tallis let him weave her an illusion she ached for, near voiceless under the pleasure of his hands. Selfishly she took what she wanted, what she _needed_ from him, and gave back everything that he would accept. They fell asleep as the stars began to fade, and when Tallis woke, she was alone.

*

Finding Cole outside of the door to the hut did not surprise Tallis at all, although his silence did. He took her hand without a word and they walked toward the Legion’s commissariat in comforting quiet. They found Cullen and Cassandra seated by a small table, a map spread between them.

“Good morning, Tallis.” Cassandra stared at her narrow eyed. “Bull has already taken a small contingent up the mountain. Blackwall and Sera were not pleased to be rousted so early.”

“Did he?” Tallis dropped onto the bench next to her. “I’m… not entirely surprised.”

“Did you have an argument? This is no time for personal conflict.”

“They did not fight,” said Cole. “There were too many words in the silence.”

Cullen frowned. “Inquisitor?”

“No.” The word dropped sharply from Cole’s lips, causing Tallis to startle. “It won’t help the hurting to speak of it. It is not the end of the world. It is the beginning of it.”

“It’s alright Cole.”

Stormy, lake-side eyes met hers, and Cole tilted his head. “It isn’t, but it is a thing that isn’t, and all the more beautiful for it. A dream outside the Fade. But even Dreamers awaken.”

“And the dawn draws near,” said Tallis.

“Yes.”

“I do not understand,” said Cassandra.

“I haven’t had a fight with Bull, Cassandra,” Tallis forced herself to smile. “He’s just concerned about the future.”

“That is good to hear.” Cassandra propped her chin upon her fist. “It is good to know that you believe that there will be something beyond the coming battle. It gives me hope.”

Cullen’s mouth pursed, hazel eyes grave.

“I’ve yet to wake Dorian,” said Cullen. “Solas broke his fast a little while ago, but once I get Dorian moving, we can head up to the Temple.”

“Yes,” said Cassandra. “It is a good idea, so we are familiar with the ambushes and traps.”

“Indeed,” came Dorian’s sleepy voice from behind her. “Is there some special reason that dawn must occur so blasted early in the morning, I ask you? Why can it not happen at a more fitting time of day, like noon?”

Cullen laughed, rising to greet Dorian with a pack to the lips. “I’m sorry, love. Next time I’ll pencil sunrise in for half-past three, shall I?”

“You do that,” said Dorian, sliding a hand behind Cullen’s neck and claiming a more thorough kiss, despite their audience.

Cassandra made a small, whimpering sound, very unlike the usual noises she made upon seeing displays of affection.

“Impossibly adorable, aren’t they?” whispered Tallis, meeting Cassandra’s eyes.

“I heard that, you impossible wench,” said Dorian, pulling away from his lover.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.” Tallis grinned at him, earning a familiar, disgusted snort. “What?”

“Joy shared is joy multiplied,” said Cole, tapping his spoon on the side of his bowl. “I don’t think I like this as well as Cullen’s stew. _This_ doesn’t taste like family. Or joy.”

“What is this you’re eating?” Dorian leaned over to look. “No, my dear Cole, you are doing it wrong. You need to add some honey and perhaps some spices or fruit. Or cream, if there is any to be had.”

“They didn’t give me any of those things, Dorian.”

“That’s because the inquisitor is a barbarian who _likes_ plain barley porridge and did not even attempt to find some. Come with me! I will show you how it’s done!” With that, Dorian swept off with Cole in tow. Tallis shook her head.

“Commander, will the Legion be breaking down this camp?”

“Yes, Inquisitor – as soon as the troops are fed. Your mother has already led a strike force up the mountain.” Cullen hesitated for a moment. “She intends to hold the final door into the temple.”

“Of course she does.” Tallis shoved a spoonful of porridge into her mouth so she couldn’t say any more. . If she died it would be in glory _away_ from the Qun, which was all her mother had asked for.

One could choose a life of service without the Tamrassans telling one what to do.

“Tallis,” said Cassandra. “You know that you could ask her to go to safety.”

“No I can’t.” Tallis took a slow, deliberate breath and held it for a moment, contemplating her fears. Then she released both with a long, soft sigh. “It’s no different than knowing that she could be taken by a stray blade at any time. Mama has made a career out of killing dangerous beings and protecting the innocent against all comers. If anyone could hold against him while blind, crippled, and voiceless, it’s her.”

Cassandra nodded. “Very well. I will find Solas –”

An explosion rocked the valley, a column of green-white fire shooting into the sky, blowing through the Breach like Qunari cannon.

“No,” whispered Cullen. “We’re not ready yet.”

“We are as ready as we could be,” said Tallis, rising to her feet. “Now all we can do is trust that our people will fight.”

“We are too far from the Valley,” said Cassandra. “We should have camped there last night.”

“Hindsight,” said Solas, coming over to them, “is always clearer.”

Dorian and Cole ran up, Varric coming in behind them.

“What are we going to do, Your Worship? Corypheus will make it to the temple before we can get down there.”

Tallis felt a smile, grim and feral cross her lips.

“Do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that, your Worship?”

“Good.”

Tallis took a breath and closed her eyes, drawing in stillness and clarity before projecting them outward as she opened them again. She swept her Anchored hand through the air, parting the folds of the Veil like a curtain.

“Let’s go.”


	13. In Dawn's Early Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holy shit,” cried Varric as the earth seemed to drop beneath them, before slamming upwards, rising unsteadily into the sky. “What the fuck is going on?”
> 
> “Well, we clearly haven’t used enough magebane, for one,” said Tallis, shouting over the protesting scream of earth and stone.

“I hate going into the Fade,” said Varric, stepping though without hesitation.

“We’re going to have a long chat about this later,” Dorian gripped her shoulder. “Tevinters, bodily entering the Fade, unpleasant surprises – we’ll discuss it over tea back at Skyhold yes?””

“Of course,” she said, oddly cheered as he passed her. Cassandra merely shook her head and Solas’ measuring look was met with a placid curve of lips.

“I don’t want to go,” said Cole, hesitating. “I don’t like it there. I don’t belong there, not like this.”

“It’s okay to be afraid, Cole,” said Cullen, lips tightening. “But Corypheus must come first. Inquisitor –”

“Take your pretty ass through,” Tallis told him. “Cole, you can meet us in the Valley, if that’s what you want. I know you can get there.”

“No,” said Cole. “You’ll need me.”

With that he passed through the Veil and she followed, closing it gently and without seam or weakness.

“How long have you been able to do that?” asked Solas.

“No idea, but at least since Adamant,” Tallis told him drily and he barked a short laugh of acknowledgement. “This is the first time I’ve tried it deliberately. Given what Corypheus originally wanted to do, it simply seemed logical that I could.”

Varric grunted, looking up at the sky.

“Would you look at that.”

Tallis looked up. From this side Corypheus’ great lance of burning light shone in dark reverse, reaching toward the Black City in malevolent tendrils that snapped and writhed. They spread, fountaining out in a blighted, unwholesome rot that seemed more an illness than a wound.

“Dear Maker,” Cassandra breathed. “Do you see? It seeks out the spirits that do not flee.”

“He’s corrupting them into demons,” said Cole flatly, “And sending them out of the fade to fight and kill. He was denied his mages and deprived of his Templars, but there are always demons and spirits in the Fade to be used as tools.”

The air around him warmed and shimmered, jagged lines of red and white flickering across Cole’s skin.

“Calm,” said Tallis. “Cole. Stop. You have to control it.”

“He’s _hurting them._ They don’t know what is happening, just the pain, and when they cross the Veil it will be too late. They will be forever changed, destroyed, and for no reason.”

“Cole!” Cullen’s gauntleted hand fell upon Cole’s shoulder, causing the spirit to startle and the shattering lines to fade. “We’re going to fix it. We are going to _help._ Do you understand?”

Cole stared up at him for a moment, pale eyes sparking, before taking one long, deep breath, and then another.

“Face it, name it, then let it go,” said Cole, turning to Tallis. “So corruption won’t have a hold. I am angry. I don’t think it is fair. ”

Tallis nodded, pulling Cole into a hug.

“Well done,” said Solas, staring up at the ravening malevolence with narrow, darkened eyes. “I believe we know the direction that we need to go. But it is no closer to us here than it was in the waking world.”

“Isn’t it?” asked Tallis, feeling a small smile stretch her lips. “We’re not in a demon’s domain or a dream. This is the unformed Fade.”

“Will, working wonders,” said Cole, “Time truncated. Travel fleet, forward, fast. Entrance and exeunt, everywhere at once.”

“You could open the Veil directly to the Valley,” said Cassandra, eyes alight with understanding.

“I should think,” said Dorian. “Yet I believe that it may be prudent for us to take the longer route. There is something that way…”

“That we need to do,” finished Solas. “I feel it, too.”

“Tallis, we don’t have time.” Cullen’s voice was harsh.

“Time moves differently here.” Tallis says as knowledge blooms behind her eyes. She looks at Dorian and he nods sharply. “Keep the moment that we left in your minds, all of you. It will be our anchor to time outside of the Fade.”

“Amatus, we spent hours in the Fade at Adamant. Indeed, it felt like days.” said Dorian, catching Cullen’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “It was not nearly so long for you. Indeed, had we been in better shape, we might have been able to ensure that our arrival was near-coincident to the time we left. Not that I advise spending days here watching that thing grow.”

Cassandra snorted.

“No, we should not.   Regardless of the differences, Cullen is right. We dare not dawdle.”

“No,” agreed Tallis, pulling in her will. “You are right.”

A path of glowing cobbles appeared to her left, leading toward the darkened breach at an oblique angle, hovering in the great expanse of green-glowing nothing.

“Yes,” breathed Solas. “There is… something. Be wary.”

Cassandra nodded and took point, sword out and ready.

It was impossible to determine how fast they were going, or even if they were truly moving, with nothing but a glittering path and unformed Fade around them. The ravening darkness floated above them, as untouchable as the Black City, but they did not pause.

_“Did you think to escape so easily?”_

The voice poured through the Fade, familiar and vile.

“Nightmare,” said Cole, lips firming. “Terror, ghastly dread in dreaming; truths tucked in tricks and tortured treachery.”

_“Little spirit, how pleasant it is to see you again. You have such new and delightful fears. Such an addition you’ll make to my collection of demons, boy. What havoc you will reap for my master.”_

The Fade spun, sick and unsteady, spiraling down and away from the Breach. The giant spider-thing that was Nightmare descended from the corrupted dark, hissing and clacking.

_“So many of my favorite toys, ready to play with.”_

“So nice of you to join the party.” Marian Hawke stood, worn and bloodied in the unformed fade, a spirit armored in blue-white flame guarding her flank. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”

“Oh, this again,” said Dorian, sounding bored. A sizzling bolt of white-hot flame burst from his fingertips and Tallis found herself laughing, spirit blade forming almost before she could think of it. “Good to see you Hawke. We thought you were dead.”

“Not yet,” said Hawke, spinning her blades and dancing in to strike.

 _“She will live so long as we draw breath,”_ boomed the spirit at her side, red crackling along the edge of its blade. _“We failed before, we will not fail again.”_

“Perhaps this is a story for another time, Inquisitor!” Cullen called, shield high. Energy whispered across her skin and the _smite_ he commanded flared brighter than the sun.

 _“You cannot win,”_ Nightmare howled, drawing their attention. _“I am the sum of your fear! I will always be here, always be with you! You are my puppets, my playthings!”_

“Shitfuck, seriously?” said Tallis, leaping forward, drawing hard upon the Fade. “If you’re so Maker-damned powerful what do you need Corypheus for?”

The words were as effective as blows, the demon screaming as they landed.

“You. Are. Nothing.” Solas’ voice rumbled, a feral growl echoing beneath his words.

“Phantasm, fear’s foul figment,” chorused Cole. “Frustrated façade, mewling and make-believe, faded and failing. Fears found in darkness, shattered by light.”

“We do not fear you,” Cassandra’s voice rang clear. “You are defeated and will be destroyed.”

Golden fire rained down from everywhere and nowhere at once, throwing everyone back and away from the demon. Lances of light speared Nightmare’s grotesque and swollen belly as bright spirits appeared, legion upon legion, drawn away from the dark whorls and snapping tentacles of the Breach.

 _“You have_ **failed** _.”_

Justinia’s voice echoed, serene and wrathful, as the bright-sun form of her spirit hovered above.

 _“Go, Inquisitor, you must not tarry. It is time for us to deal with our brethren. For too long have we done nothing, allowing demons such as this their way. No more!”_ The spirit’s voice rose in resplendent, alien song, her light growing brighter.

Tallis threw her hand up to shield her eyes, blinking. The Anchor flared, and she found herself at the base of the path to the Shrine.

“Maker,” Hawke’s voice was weak. “Why couldn’t she have done that before?”

“Because before they did not see.” The small, slim form of Solona Amell appeared beside Hawke. “Those you call the First Children do not change, the mutable immutable. Corypheus shakes the foundations of the Fade, twists and corrupts that which should be pure.”

“Demon,” whispered Cullen, flinching.

“Spirit,” countered Solas, with a shake of his head. “And something else.”

“Fidelity, constant, unshaken, unshakable,” said Cole. “Faith. But more. Solona.”

“Care, concern, consideration, _kindness,”_ said Solona. “Compassion. Cole.”

“Wonderful,” said Dorian, clapping his hands. “All we need is a physical embodiment of Hope to have the Golden Triumvirate.”

Solona turned to him and scowled. “How do you know that one does not walk among you?”

“Little good comes from consorting with spirits,” said Hawke, staring warily at Solona.

“You have reason for such lack of faith.” Solona lifted a hand, glowing slightly as a wave of healing energy crashed out from her. Hawke took a deep breath, color returning to her cheeks in an angry flood.

“You shouldn’t use magic on those who haven’t asked for it.”

“You probably shouldn’t use your daggers on people who haven’t asked for it, either,” said Solona, serenely.

“Oh, they ask for it,” said Hawke. “And I feel much better. Thank you.”

“So did you. And you’re most welcome.” said Solona, offering Hawke a hand up. Hawke’s blue eyes sparked, but she said nothing, accepting the spirit-woman’s assistance.

“We must move.” Cassandra’s clipped voice echoed from the stone. Tallis followed the Seeker’s gaze, staring up the path to where the Breach swirled and undulated. “Even now Corypheus advances our people die to impede his progress.”

“Right.” Tallis threw a glance at the horizon, grateful to see that the sun had not moved far. She pulled some flasks from her belt, tossing them at Solas and Dorian. “Here. Magebane antidote.”

“What?” Cullen stared at her, eyes widening briefly.

“Leliana and Clemence have been working on it for a while.” Tallis offered Cullen a small, bitter smile. “Leliana is not one to leave me undefended against such an obvious attack, Cullen.”

“No, I suppose not,” he said as she tossed it back. “But the implications –”

“Now is not the time.” Cassandra gave Tallis a narrow look. “We will have to discuss it, but _later.”_

Tallis nodded. “Later, if there is one.”

Cassandra scoffed. “We will be victorious. I have faith.”

“Let’s go.”

They ran down the path, finding sprung traps and bodies, some breathing some not. First a trickle, and then a small flood of surviving soldiers ran up to meet him. Cullen shouted out crisp orders, sending some back to tend the injured when another explosion, much, _much_ larger, rocked the valley.

 _“You dare to contest the will of a God? Think you that you have the power to thwart me, who has moved through the ages, by will alone?”_ The ground trembled, shuddering and juddering, and then tilted, unsteady.

“Holy shit,” cried Varric as the earth seemed to drop beneath them, before slamming upwards, rising unsteadily into the sky. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Well, we clearly haven’t used enough magebane, for one,” said Tallis, shouting over the protesting scream of earth and stone.

_“Witness my power, insignificant worms! Try to deny me my place upon the Throne of Heaven!”_

“We’ll do better than that!” Her mother’s voice echoed down to them, confident and stern. “We will win.”

A brilliant column of energy slammed down from the sky, hitting a clearing that was rising faster than the others.

“Fuck, it’s not that far,” Tallis rolled to her feet. “Come on, he gets that thing high enough, he’ll move the entire fucking temple into the Fade.”

“Showy bastard, isn’t he?” said Hawke, already moving. “Not very bright, but definitely showy.”

“You should know from showy,” panted Varric as the party ran, leaping from stone to unanchored stone, trying to reach the fastest rising platform.

“He wastes energy,” said Solas, fleet and nimble upon the impossible terrain. “For that, we should all be grateful.”

“Yeah. He might simply have levitated himself.”

Around them, Tallis could see constellations of small rifts opening and closing in an irregular beat, each growing larger as demons fell from the sky. Cullen’s troops scrambled up behind them as flashes of pure magical energy flared.

Tallis and the rest stumbled over the last ledge, spilling into what had once been a courtyard before the great temple. Bodies of soldiers and mercenaries littered the ground, but Nike Katari still held the gates, magic burning brightly within her as she unleased the full, terrifying power of Qunari _Saarebas_ upon Corypheus.

Tallis leapt forward with a cry, spirit-blade flashing bright and Corypheus howled in inarticulate rage. Above them, the great lyrium dragon roared, a corrupt red leviathan screaming out of the swirling darkness.

Another dragon dove to meet it, a silent hunter on violet-black wings. Morrigan’s golden eyes raked them as she knocked Corypheus’ shrieking horror from the sky, great claws tearing before the beast ripped free. Tallis leapt back, Varric’s arrows raining down in the instant before Cassandra’s shield shoved Corypheus back. Cullen stood to one side, eyes intent, as grenades flashed out of the darkness, his soldier’s tossing grenades filled with magebane.

Solona touched his hand and he shuddered, raising his shield before them both. Corypheus conjured fire in sweeping swathes that Dorian countered with ice and storm.

 _“Weak, pathetic fools. Why dost thou continue to oppose me?”_ Corypheus lifted the glowing orb of the artifact, unleashing a burst of pure power that knocked everyone back. _“Thief, O thou misbegotten creature of misfortune, why wilt thou not. Just. DIE?”_

Tallis laughed, rolling to duck behind fallen stone to avoid the lash of energy.

 _“I will take the throne of Heaven and I will create a new and better world! I will scour the corruption of this grand mistake and replace it with something greater!”_ Corypheus screamed as Cullen’s smite hit, draining the power fountaining around him back into the Fade. Solona’s skin flared white, healing energy flooding out, bolstering them all; steadying them and their conviction.

 _“What hast thou done?”_ The ground trembled, dipping wildly for a moment, just as below a dragon screamed, red-black energy _exploded_ , a coruscating sun of blood and fire winking out into silence. _“NO! IT CANNOT BE!”_

“Oh, it can,” Tallis called out as Cole’s blades found their mark. She stood as Corypheus went to his knees, darting forward to pull the artifact from his hand. It pulsed and writhed against the anchor as she drew the power in, coiling it tighter and tighter. She pulled his head back as he cried out to Dumat, to the ancient Gods and stared into his eyes. “You wanted the Fade,” she told him softly. “But you shall not have it.”

Tallis shifted her sight, seeking the amorphous energy of his essence, and _pulled._ Even as a shriveled, blighted husk, it was a daunting thing, thrashing and struggling against the light of her spirit as she drew him down, spiraling inward.

 _Here,_ she told him, in the shimmering silence where the soul met the Fade. _Here is what you seek._

The noisome mass of Corypheus’ soul lashed out as she unleashed everything she had, the bright singularity of self-anchor-artifact bursting forth in a nova of light. She shot through him, a bright and purifying flame, seeking his darkened core.

_You cannot do this._

Memory, ancient and new, flew by, imprinting deep before flaring and falling to ash.

 _I can._ Sorrow gripped Tallis, relentless and cruel. _Your world is gone, Sethius Amladaris. I cannot condone what you would build in its place._

 _We were promised power untold._ For a moment she could see him before her: a babe, a youth, a man, an elder, ambitious, yes, but with a faith both beautiful and bright. _It was to be the rebirth of belief, of our entire world. Instead it was darkness and corruption, and everything we touched brought to ruin._

The moment they stepped through their gate to the Fade shimmered before her before burning away, leaving Tallis with the sharp, bleeding wound of infinite betrayal.

 _I might almost believe again._ Sethius Amladaris, High Priest of Dumat, stood before her as he must have been once; a compelling man just beyond his prime, dark-eyed and handsome. An odd, wistful smile curved the corner of his lips and he shook his head. _That the mere vagaries of luck would provide me such opposition seems unlikely._

 _Hardly luck._ Tallis studied him as the essence of his being burned and fell away. _I am precisely what you have made of me._

 _No, Elpida Asala, who calls herself Caputalis Adaar._ His form began to fade, _I am but the fire that tempered you. I can but wonder, was that my purpose? The reason for waiting age upon age? Is my task finally done? I am so weary._

_Rest, Sethius Amladaris. Return your self to the energies from which you came._

He was gone, burned away and into memory.

Tallis shot upward and out, slamming her _self_ past her body, and into the fractured, darkling sky. Inner gates thrown wide, she channeled everything upward and into the Fade, cauterizing everything she touched and burning away what she could remained of Corypheus’ corruption.

For a moment, she hung there, a nascent sun beneath the shattered sky. Then the Breach slammed shut, sending a shockwave of power that flung her down, back into her screaming, seizing body. For a moment, she could see them all, worry and despair writ large upon her friends’ faces as Solona poured waning energy into a stuttering, juddering heart.

Then her spirit fell into her corporeal form and everything went black.

*

Tallis woke in an almost-comfortable bed that felt hauntingly familiar. She took a slow, deep breath before opening her eyes, trying to identify the scents around her. Dorian’s ebrium and sandalwood soap mingled with Cullen’s elfroot-and-lotus. The well-loved scent of Bull’s musk melded the faintest memory of Cassandra’s attar of roses. Sera was there, a nervous tap of fingers against wood, and Varric, a gentle, encouraging murmur. She could feel the invisible brush of Cole’s fingers and hear the familiar snick of bade against wood as Blackwall whittled away at something.

She opened her eyes, turning her head to see Solona sitting beside her, a serene smile curving her lips.

“Welcome back, Tallis.” The spirit-woman lifted her hand from Tallis’ breast.

“Faith.”

“She likes _Solona_ , Tallis,” said Cole, appearing near her head. “I’m glad you are back. I’ll go and tell everyone.”

Solona laughed softly. “He is very kind.”

“Yes.” Tallis attempted to push herself up, only to find herself weak as a kitten. “Okay, no. Apparently.”

“You’ve been wandering for several days,” said Solona, assisting her into a sitting position. “Your body will quickly regain its strength, now that your spirit has found its way home.”

Tallis looked around, recognizing the cabin where she’d recovered from the Breach the first time.

“We won?”

“Indeed we did,” said Cassandra from the door. “It is so good to see you awake, Inquisitor.”

Tallis glared at her, feeling tetchy.

“Tallis,” Cassandra’s lips curved in a tiny smile.

“Better,” said Tallis. “What’s the damage?”

Solona quietly exited the room, leaving Cassandra to take the chair beside the bed.

Cassandra’s smile faded.

“We lost many soldiers in the fighting and the aftermath. The re-opened Breach unleashed many demons.”

“Not unexpected,” said Tallis. “Are there new rifts?”

“None have yet been reported, but it will likely be many days before we have confirmation one way or the other. You have been unconscious for almost a week, but that is not enough time for our scouts to seek such out and report. And then there is that –” Cassandra pointed to Tallis’ hand, clenched tight upon her lap. “We do not know if you can still close them, even if they are found.”

Tallis blinked and looked down, slowly relaxing her fingers. The gleaming emerald flame of the Anchor was gone.

“Well, that could be a problem. What does Solas have to say?”

“Solas has not been seen since the battle. I saw him pick up the fragments of the Orb that Corypheus was using – I thought that he was taking it for study back at Skyhold, but he has disappeared. I do not know what it means. I do not know if he is aware that your mark is gone.”

“That is strange,” said Tallis, frowning, unease twisting in her gut. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes.” Cassandra took a deep breath. “Your mother and many of her people were casualties. I am so sorry, Tallis.”

The words were a heart-blow, sharp-edged and jagged and Tallis gasped at the pain.

“Mama?”

“It was much as you said. If anyone could hold that position, it was Nike Katari.”

“Yes.” Tears welled up. Tallis slid down, under the covers and curled up upon herself. “It was a good death.”

The words slipped from her tongue like acid, cauterizing her own, open wound. Cassandra’s hand brushed her shoulder. “Do you want me to send in Bull?”

“No.”

The dawn had broken…

“No, I’d like to be alone.”

…and the dream was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor character death


	14. The Space to Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Inquisition!” her voice carried easily though the baily and courtyard. “We are victorious!”

The trip back to Skyhold was slow and melancholy. Tallis spent her time in the back of a wagon with Hawke, regaining her strength under Solona’s watchful eye.

“It’s almost as bad as being fussed at by Anders,” said Hawke, who was confined to a narrow cot. Time moved differently in the fade, but it had done her no favors when they’d emerged. “Only with less ranting.”

“Then I am doing my job correctly,” said Solona without looking up from the small journal she was writing in.

A small laugh fought its way from Tallis’ chest, issuing from startled lips. Hawke’s lips quirked up slightly.

“Are you all right?” asked Hawke softly. “It’s a hard thing, what happened at the Temple.”

“As well as I can be.” They had burned her mother’s body the night before leaving and the ensuing wake had been lively. Her mother had kept few personal possessions with her when on campaign, all of which had been destined for the men under her command. Still, a letter with the name Tallis’ parents had given her, _Elpida Asala_ , had lain near the bottom of a small, cedar chest in her command tent, paired with one addressed to _Caputalis Adaar._

Tallis hadn’t had the strength to open either of them yet.

Hawke laid a thin hand over hers, squeezing gently.

“I know it’s trite and the most useless statement in the world right now, but it _does_ get better.”

“I know.” Tallis offered a small, wobbly smile. “Someday I’ll be able to remember without tears. Right now, it’ll be enough to be able to enter Skyhold without bawling.”

“No doubt,” said Hawke. “All of those damned Orlesians. No doubt there will be quite the party to celebrate.”

Tallis thought to Leliana’s note, _defenses ready_ , and nodded. One way or another that would doubtless be true.

“Celebration is good,” said Solona, setting aside her quill and blowing upon the ink to dry it and closing the little book. “You will both be well enough to attend. The gates are near.”

With that, the spirit-woman vanished.

“Because that’s not creepy or anything,” Hawke muttered. “Really. Not fucked up _at all._ ”

Tallis shrugged, well used to Cole’s eccentricities, and Solona’s were mild in comparison.

“It is what it is,” said Tallis. “I’m grateful that she wants to help, not hinder.”

“How do you know she’s not a demon?”

“I don’t,” said Tallis. “But she’s been nothing but helpful.”

Hawke scowled, pushing herself upright. “Anders and Justice did nothing but heal the poor for years before blowing up a Chantry.”

“Which is as much his legacy as that one, desperate act,” said Tallis, studying Hawke’s strained, sweating faces. “How many in Kirkwall live because of him, Hawke? Varric told me once that there’s still a free clinic in Darktown that’s run by probable-apostates.”

“There is,” said Hawke haltingly, eyes darting away. “But that doesn’t negate what he did.”

“Of course not,” Tallis snorted. “It’s not like that shit cancels out. But his batshittery doesn’t mean that Solona or Cole will blow up Skyhold. For one, I’m not going to give them reason, and two, they’re very different spirits and people.”

“You offer trust too easily.”

“Do I?” Tallis shook her head as the wagon came to a stop and familiar voices shouted down from the guardhouse, a call-and-response that took longer than normal. There was a faint rustle of wings and Baron Plucky swooped in, landing at the foot of Hawke’s cot and glaring up at her with beady eyes. He carried no message, just stared at her for a moment before taking wing once again.

Tallis and Hawke stared at the place the crow had been and then looked at one another.

“Help me up.”

“Right.”

Tallis stood and offered her hand up. “Come on. Us conquering heroes should walk through the gate.”

The cheers that met them were thunderous, rising from the castle baily to echo off the sides of the surrounding mountains.   Tallis limped in, arm wrapped tight around Hawke’s waist, forcing a smile to her face despite her melancholy. Across the courtyard Krem and the Chargers had taken hold of Bull, hauling him up onto sturdy shoulders as he laughed, deep and booming. Leliana and Josephine stood above the madding crowd, pleased smiles gracing their faces as Cullen took the stairs two at a time. Musical laugher rang out as he swept them into an enthusiastic embrace, Josephine’s giggles chiming like bells as Cullen lifted her, spinning her around in joy.

“Have I ever thanked you for the boots, Tallis,” asked Dorian, unentangling himself from the crowd.

“Boots?” asked Hawke.

“He wore thigh high boots to a royal ball,” said Tallis. “Because reasons.”

“And such lovely reasons they are,” sighed Dorian, “especially paired with the dragonhide trews. He still doesn’t realize you were deliberately objectifying him, you realize.”

Hawke shook her head, laughing softly. “I see many things have changed in my absence.”

“Oh, indeed,” said Dorian, a flush warming his bronze skin as the Commander turned, eyes clearly seeking him out in the crowd, a soft, sweet smile curving scarred lips when they landed on him.

“Cullen? And a mage?” asked Hawke, only a little challenging. “He has changed.”

“My amatus is many things,” Dorian said softly. “But a man who cannot admit his errors and attempt some form of atonement isn’t one of them. He was devastated when you were lost at Adamant, Hawke. He believes he owes you a great deal and the circumstances were such that he was unable to even try to make amends.”

“Hmmm.” Hawke sighed. “He doesn’t owe me anything for the clusterfuck that was Kirkwall. We _all_ had a hand in what happened.”

“Would you be willing to speak with him, my dear lady?” Dorian bit his lip. “He won’t thank me for interfering, but he doesn’t think he’s worthy to approach you.”

Hawke laughed softly. “Bloody idiot noodlehead. I’d be happy to talk to Cullen, but let me go to him.”

“Of course.”

“Hawke!” Varric’s cheerful shout reverberated over the noise of the crowd. “Come on – there’s a bed calling your name and I know where it is!”

Cole appeared next to them, his arm sliding gently around Hawke’s waist. Watchful lakewater eyes met Tallis’, flicking toward Bull and then Leliana before he gave a small, sweet smile. “I will help you. I like to help.”

Tallis saw the moment Hawke’s distrust melted into helpless acquiescence, Cole’s earnestness being difficult to resist. Tallis pulled away gently. “Go on. I’m sure Solona will be along to get a look at you.”

Hawke grunted.

“They will come,” said Cole, leading the Champion away. “But there is nothing for them to fear here. So long as he wants to atone, Tallis will defend them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hawke muttered as they melted into the crowd.

Tallis made her way through the crowd, accepting cheers and backslaps and enthusiastic embraces with bittersweet happiness. Corypheus was dead, whatever their losses had been – but if she never returned the site of the Temple she would be grateful. A great cheer went up as she loped up the stairs toward the great hall and Tallis found herself laughing as she held up a hand, sending a ripple of quiet anticipation through the crowd.

“Inquisition!” her voice carried easily though the baily and courtyard. “We are victorious!”

The crowd met her words with jubilant cheers and she lifted her hands toward the sky.

“The Breach is healed my friends, our goal achieved! We have endured the darkness and find ourselves in the light of a new dawn!” The crowd roared. “We have brought order out of chaos. We have fed the starving, clothed the naked, healed the sick and injured, ended wars and thwarted the plans of one of the greatest evils ever to face our world! _We_ did this. It could not have been done without you.”

Tallis lowered her arms, crossing them over her breast and bowing to them as the cheering died down.

“ _We_ are the Inquisition. _We_ have changed the world.” Her hands swept out, all encompassing. “Mages and Templars, nobility and common, mercenaries and volunteers. Elves, dwarves, humans, and Kossith. Andrastian, Dalish, Qunari and Stone. We have survived the darkest night to see the sun rise on a new day. It is up to us to determine what we will do with it.

“Over the next days and weeks we will have to find our way, determine what we will do with the foundation that we’ve built here. I want each and every one of us to think about what we want from the future and what we will do. Some, I know, will return home and I hope that they will take the lessons they’ve learned here and teach them to others. Some will stay, and I assure you, there is more than enough work to keep us busy for a long, _long_ time. There is much rebuilding to be done and as my mother always told me – we should leave any place we’ve been better than we found it.”

Laughter echoed up and Tallis grinned. “I and my advisors will be available for questions and input. Our first, great task is done, but there is more for us to do. But first, I believe we’re due for a _party!”_

The roar of the crowd bounced off the surrounding mountains.

Tallis turned to go up the remaining steps to the great hall.

“Inquisitor, if you have a moment,” murmured Leliana.

“Of course.”

She and Leliana passed through the doors into the already festive Great Hall. Tallis smiled at the various dignitaries that bowed to her as they passed and turned toward the hall that led to the war table.

They walked in silence until they entered the war room. Tallis brushed her fingers along the door, sealing it with silencing wards.

“First, I wished to tell you how sorry I am about your mother.”

Tallis leaned against the door and stared, unseeing, at the war table. “It was a good day to die.”

Leliana hummed.

“You know that it was not Corypheus.”

Tallis’ head tilted back until her horns hit the door, eyes closing against the pain. “It’s a little hard to mistake a knife to the kidneys for magical fire, Leliana.”

“Good.” Her spymaster’s voice was cold. “I did not want to be the one to break it to you.”

Tallis snorted. “The Ben-Hassrath got her in the end.”

“That is what I believe. It is not clear if it was one of our men or one of hers.”

“They’re currently under contract, so it makes no difference.” Tallis opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “There’s no reliable test for viddathari, so it’s always a gamble when you hire someone.”

“I know.”

Tallis glanced at Leliana, marveling at the cold, banked rage in the Left Hand’s pale eyes.

“There was nothing that could have prevented it,” Tallis told her softly. “Someone took advantage. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Should it not be me, comforting you?” Leliana asked.

“My mother made her living pissing off slavers and Magisters. In theory it could have been one of their assassins instead.”

Leliana gave a delicate huff.

“Any other news?”

“We have been unable to find any trace of Solas.” Leliana crossed her arms. “Worse – it seems that the background information about him that I gathered in the beginning was… woefully incomplete.”

“How so?”

“I questioned him when he joined came to us in Haven. He was quite evasive – which was not unexpected, given that he was an apostate – but he did tell me the name of the village he grew up in. Given the circumstances I did not follow up, as we had far more pressing concerns.” Leliana’s mouth slid into an unhappy curve. “You must understand, it was always my intention to complete the investigation, as I did for all of those who remained close to you. Yet always I was distracted from doing so.

“When Cassandra sent a raven to inform us that Solas had vanished, I realized that I had never completed my investigation of him, which of itself was very disturbing, no? So I made contact with Magister Tilani in Tevinter, to see if she might be able to find any information. She was most gracious and generous with her time.”

“Message crystals?”

“The Magister has been… most concerned about the Venatori threat, here and in Tevinter. Like Dorian, she has put a great deal of effort into countering their efforts, and has been a source of a great deal of information. The crystal has allowed us to stay ahead of several Venatori plots.”

Tallis nodded her understanding.

“What Magister Tilani found is… most distressing. I had hoped that we might contact Solas’ family, perhaps leave him a message.”

“Is something wrong with them?”

“Only if by ‘wrong’ you mean ‘they have been dead for centuries.” Leliana’s eyes flashed. “The name of the village given to me was in Elvhen, which I _should_ have recognized as unlikely in modern Tevinter, no matter how small Solas claimed the place to be. It is only the fact that one of the Magister’s apprentices recognized it – bastardized as the name was in Ancient Tevene – from documents he had been using for research in Minrathous that allowed us to find it. I am sorry, Inquisitor, but Solas has been lying to us – perhaps even _using_ us – from the start.”

“All of those Elvhen artifacts we’ve activated – the ones that are supposed to strengthen the Veil.”

Leliana gave her a curt nod. “We have had our scouts and agents on the lookout for them ever since he mentioned the first one. We do not actually know what they do, as we took Solas at his word. But we’ve activated all that we could find.”

“Our foremost expert in the Fade,” said Tallis, a little bitterly. “I knew he wasn’t all he seemed – how could he be?”

“Yet we trusted him. He saved your life – helped us stabilize the Breach.”

“Did he?” Tallis stared down at the hand that had once glowed with the power of the Anchor. “I doubt there will be much to find, but keep looking.”

Leliana nodded. “We have also had news from Val Royeaux. The Grand Clerics have chosen to take a vote, without any of their candidates for the Sunburst Throne available.”

“Have they? Is that unusual?”

“Church politics,” said Leliana. “Normally the Candidates are given the opportunity to speak for themselves. Often there is a great deal of maneuvering to garner votes. It is the Grand Game at its most venal and cutthroat, as it is not always the Candidates themselves who attempt to broker power. It was most surprising when they elected Justinia, who was not one to play the Game directly if she could avoid it.”

“And now, you have had no opportunity to play the Game at all?”

Leliana gave her a scything smile. “There is too much for me to do here, Inquisitor. As you said – there is much for us to do.”

“By which you mean that you’ve been playing it for the highest stakes.”

“Cassandra will make an adequate Divine,” said Leliana coolly. “And I will see Vivienne _dead_ before I see her on the Sunburst Throne.”

“Leliana?”

“She would undo every good we have accomplished, Inquisitor. She is a great Player in the Grand Game, but I do not trust her motives. Vivienne de Fer wishes power and leverage, and I will not be the one that gives it to her over all of Thedas.”

Tallis considered that. She admired Vivienne for her discipline and tenacity, but if the woman was anything, she was a power grasping opportunist. Tallis had little doubt that it had started as self-protection. Power – within the Circle and outside of it – was one of the few ways that a Circle mage could truly insulate themselves from abuse by the Templars or the Chantry, and even then it was chancy. Tallis had very little doubt that if Vivienne had not been as lucky as she was in her liaison with the Duke de Ghyslain, she would have turned to any other source of power to be found.

“No. That would be bad.” Tallis drummed her fingers against the door. “We’re going to have to do something about her, Leliana.”

Leliana raised an elegant brow. “You disapprove of murder.”

“Who said anything about killing? I said that at some point, something will have to be done.” Tallis shouldered herself away from the wall and made a slow circuit of the War Table, studying the various markers of their efforts across Orlais and Ferelden. “But we will leave that for tomorrow, unless you believe she will be an issue tonight?”

“There are many influential nobles here, no?” Leliana’s lips quirked. “Madame de Fer may not have been with you at the Temple, but she was upon the battlements. There were no rifts, but there were demons that fell from the Breach. Some few landed before the gates and one within the baily. She and our soldiers made short work of them. There are many who will remember them as their savior, even if she did not defeat Corypheus himself.”

Tallis barked a laugh. “Of course. Did we lose anyone?”

“No, all civilians were safely within. Between our men, Vivienne and the Chargers, there was little enough that might be construed as danger.”

A bell, set high upon the wall rang sharply, bypassing the silencing wards.

“Ah, duty,” sighed Leliana as Tallis cancelled the ward. “Our Josie is in high dudgeon, what with only a week to plan a grand celebration.”

“You should be more concerned,” fretted Josephine as the door opened. “The sommelier has only just arrived! Our wine cellar is respectable but it is not quite what he would prefer to work with.”

“Josie?”

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

“Breathe.”

“There will not be enough of the petit fours, though we have sufficient roasted meats…”

“It will be magnificent, Josie, you will see!” Leliana wrapped an arm around the distraught ambassador, pulling her along as the three women walked down the hall toward Josephine’s office. “Trust me, no one will remember the wine or the cakes.”

“But I want them to!” protested Josephine, golden skin flushing with ire as they passed through the doorway to the antechamber that housed Josephine’s desk. The Antivan pulled away, heading to the fireplace that kept the drafty chamber warm. “It is a grand celebration!”

Leliana laughed, pale eyes flicking from corner to corner, lingering briefly upon a shadow near the open door leading to the great hall. “I celebrated the defeat of the Archdemon, did I not? I assure you, I remember the party – but I don’t remember the food.”

Josephine sighed.

“Inquisitor –”

“Tallis.”

“Yes, of course. Tallis. I have ordered you a bath and if you wish, a few new gowns have made it into your wardrobe.” Josephine paused. “I did not know what kind of message you wished to make with your appearance. Or if there might be… other considerations you wished to take into account.”

“Oh, Maker. A bath.” Tallis hugged herself. “I’d kill for a bath, I think.”

“No need,” said Leliana, her laughter echoing joyously through the stone room. “Clemence has been tinkering and there are some new bath oils that you should enjoy. They’re absurdly good for the skin.”

“But do they smell good?”

“Go, Tallis,” said Leliana, pulling Tallis’ face down to breathe air kisses over her cheeks. “The party cannot start until you come in.”

“I want to visit the troops first,” said Tallis firmly.

“Of course,” said Josephine, pulling a small vial from a belt pouch. “I thought you might be in need of a pick-me-up. I’ve given the same to Dorian, though Vivienne said she had no need. Fiona and the other mages on healing duties also have some, so they won’t be too tired to miss the party.”

Tallis raised a brow before popping the lid and downing the potion. A low hum of energy uncurled from her belly, spiraling out in a pleasant flow of warmth.

“Interesting,” said Tallis.

“We are hoping that it will prove a marketable commodity,” said Josephine. “So far it has shown to be non-addictive, unlike lyrium, and according to the mages who’ve been testing it provides a pleasant, steady stream of energy that’s more useful than jolts once they’ve exhausted themselves.”

Tallis frowned a little. “I’m all for an alternative to lyrium, but…”

“Do not worry – the ingredients are such that dwarven trade would not necessarily suffer.”

Josie’s smile was guileless, which only enforced the idea that the ambassador was up to no good.

“It’s a discussion for later, I imagine,” said Tallis. “I’m off, then.”


	15. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Endings and beginnings

Tallis headed for her quarters. She could see Bull and Krem and a handful of the Chargers helping set up tables in the great hall and she waved at them, letting a small smile curve her lips when Krem and Rocky waved back. She took the stairs up to her chambers two at a time. Cole sat perched on the edge of the deep, enameled tub, staring down at the water.

Even from where she stood at the top of the stairs, she could smell sweet oils and foreign spices.

“It’s different,” Cole told her, his eyes darkened to stormy grey. “It smells nice, but the water is strange.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Tallis, stripping off travel and battle stained clothes. “It will be all right.”

He cocked his head to the side, staring into the distance. “All the actors are in play, all that is left is for their lines to be said. But I do not like it. There is so much _hurt.”_

Tallis said nothing, sliding into the hot water with a small, pleasured groan. He looked down at her, lost, and she lifted a hand to touch his. “It will be all right, Cole.”

He dropped down beside the tub. “How do you know?”

“I don’t, but I refuse to believe anything else.”

“Your mother left you a gift. It is not here, but I could get it,” said Cole. “It is far away, but important. I think you should have it. Wear it.”

Tallis considered the spark in Cole’s stormy eyes and gave a slow nod.

“I will be back soon. I will help you.”

Tallis leaned back for a moment, enjoying the heat, before ducking her head and beginning to wash. There would be time for leisurely soaking later. The soap was new, scented of spice and far distant lands. Tallis shook her head – the symbolism of it wasn’t lost on her. Beautiful, exotic, functional… it was like flying a banner for her ancestry.

Tallis scrubbed her hair clean and took special care with her horns before stepping out of the bath. She stumbled a bit, muscles loose and relaxed from the penetrating warmth, but settled herself comfortably before the fire, towel in hand as she dried off and contemplated the night before her.

A cool hand touched her shoulder and she looked up into Cole’s eyes, smiling a bit as he held out a brush.

“Go ahead,” she told him, staring into the leaping flames, drowsing a bit in the warmth and the comfort of having her hair tended to.

“I like your hair,” Cole said absently. “It’s warm and bright, like the memory of fire.”

Tallis chuckled. “If it was the memory of fire, it would be green.”

His hands paused for a moment and then he laughed. “Oh! Like veilfire. Or your eyes. That would still be pretty, because it would be yours.”

Tallis hummed to herself as his hands began moving again in long, even strokes.

“Braids?” he asked, even as his fingers started sectioning her hair. It had been years since she’d worn it that way, in dozens of small, whip-like cords, but it felt right and she nodded her agreement. “Golden hair clasps, that bell when you dance. Melody in movement, silence in stillness. You missed them when she took them out.”

Tallis smiled in memory. “Shokrakar thought it was asking for trouble. It’s hard to sneak when your hair tells everyone where you are.”

“You know how to be silent when wearing them,” Cole said, fingers slipping like water through her hair.

“It also made me an easy target for the Ben-Hassrath, which I didn’t mind,” said Tallis. “It made it easier to kill them when they came after me. But Shokrakar got tired of having to deal with the aftermath, I guess. For some reason it upsets the Templars when a distinctive Qunari apostate has been seen taking out random viddathari.”

Her hair chimed softly as he completed a braid. “You like them. They make you happy.”

“Where’d you get them, Cole? I sold mine long ago.”

“I asked Dagna to make them,” his fingers continued to move, deft and sure. “Long ago. You dreamed about dancing to the music your movement made.”

Tallis’ breath froze in her lungs. She remembered that dream – they’d been in the Western Approach, heading for Adamant. The familiarity of troop movement, of setting up to besiege a fortification, had stirred a homesickness so strong Tallis had found the dream hard to leave, even after she’d destroyed the desire demon that had tried to influence her.

Cole stilled. “Was it wrong?”

“No,” said Tallis. “No, it’s just right.”

She pulled one of the completed braids forward so she could look at it. Bead-like clasps of volcanic aurum, with abstract inlays of dawnstone and bloodstone. She flicked one with a fingertip and smiled at the pure, crystalline note that resonated faintly from it.

Cole hummed happily, returning to his work.

Footsteps echoed up from the stairwell.

“It is I, Inquisitor.” Clemence the tranquil said clearly as he reached the top. “I have brought some things that Sister Nightingale thought you might wish to have.”

“Please,” she said, turning, pivoting to view the stairs. Cole grumbled a little, adjusting his seat behind her as he worked. The tranquil approached, carrying a small bag. It was strange, the feeling she had as the Tranquil’s eyes flickered over her. It wasn’t that she expected to find desire in his gaze – years of mixed bathing while on the road with her mercenary company had long since taught her that the naked female form was nothing like the temptation some humans would claim it was – but the pure _nothingness_ behind his eyes, beyond an echo of what might be called curiosity, was unnerving. He offered her the bag.

“Antidote,” he said clearly. “She is concerned.”

Tallis tipped the contents of the bag onto the rug, picking out the now-familiar looking vial of magebane antidote. “What’s this one?”

She held up another one, a viscous pink.

“Saar-qamek prophylactic. We think.” Tallis felt Cole’s hands still on her back. “It should work. The Iron Bull was not forthcoming in what would be needed to develop resistance to it. Sister Leliana is concerned that Qunari assassins may use it on their blades.”

“I see,” she looked up at him, and toasted him. The substance was _vile_. “Please ensure that Dorian gets some.”

“Doses were prepared for anyone Sister Leliana thought would be targets, and have been distributed.”

Tallis blinked at him. “I see. Will you be at the party?”

“Madam de Fer has informed the Tranquil that we are not… welcome to take part in the festivities, as we cannot enjoy them and make others nervous.”

“Madam de Fer is not in charge of the Inquisition or the party – and you have done your share for our success. I won’t say that any of you have to come, but you are welcome.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. Sister Leliana has instructed me to provide doses every morning for the foreseeable future.”

Tallis sighed. “Very well. So I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.” Clemence bowed and left.

“Sea-change, sudden, sorrow-filled,” said Cole, fingers resuming their task. “Tears like the tide. _Aban aqun_. Something is coming.”

“Yes.”

“Hey, boss!”

Tallis hunched in on herself, not quite flinching at the sound of Bull’s voice. She looked up as he topped the stairs, bare chested and shining with honest sweat. She’d barely seen him on the trip back from Haven, and only in company. And she’d preferred that, much to the surprise of her inner circle.

“Surely you want his comfort?” Cassandra had asked. “I know he wishes to offer it.”

Tallis had shaken her head. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Foolish,” the Seeker had told her. “But I understand.”

Cassandra hadn’t, of course. But neither did Cassandra seem to realize that Nike’s death hadn’t been the result of fighting Corypheus. It was difficult to look Bull in the eye, certain as she was of a viddathari’s dagger.

“Kadan,” Bull said softly as Cole tied off the last whip of hair, setting the last of the jeweled bells. “Hey, good job demon-kid. Her hair looks great.”

“Yes,” said Cole. “Like blood and flame.”

Cole took the bag Clemence had brought, tying it to his belt. Then he pulled a small pouch from under his tunic, tipping a shining circle of silverite into his palm. Tallis blinked at it. “Papa’s ring.”

She’d already recovered her mother’s – a band of silverite scavenged from the hateful collar she’d worn under the Qun, set with a fragment of black enamel, the shard of a dragon’s tooth. Tears caught her unprepared as she stared at her father’s matching ring. Tallis lifted it from Cole’s palm with trembling fingers, bittersweet melancholy gripping her.

“No matter the distance,” she murmured, sliding it on to the finger next to mother’s, fixing it in place with magic until she could get Dagna to resize it. “Thank you, Cole.”

“You should be careful, demon kid, there are some men who would object to you giving rings to their women.”

“Yes,” said Cole, looking over at him. “They would not like me playing with her hair, or seeing her like this. But you don’t mind.”

Bull paused. “No. I don’t mind. But I’d kind of like to have her to myself for a bit.”

Cole nodded. “I’ll be back later.”

“He’s… different. Since the battle. Since you came out of the Fade.”

Tallis shrugged, standing. “He’s still himself.”

“You brought another spirit back, kadan. Do you think that was wise?”

“Given that she saved my life?” she dropped the towel. “But do you really want to talk about Solona, Bull? I’ve barely seen you. We won – shouldn’t we be celebrating?”

He looked down at her, eye gleaming. “You’re all clean, Kadan. You sure you want me to get you dirty?”

She turned, letting her bells chime.

They’d always been irresistible to ben-hassrath spies.

Lies and illusions; one last time.

*

The party was in full swing, down in the bailey and courtyard, soldiers and civilians laughing and joking. There were minstrels _everywhere_ , and Tallis couldn’t help but wonder where Jospehine had gotten them all. Had they been hidden in some deep closet somewhere? Had the ambassador been breeding them somewhere under the castle?

Tallis carried a half-full mug of Nightingale’s punch, pretending to nurse it as she moved from crowd to crowd, accepting cheers and well-wishes. Bull had wandered off, pulled away by Krem and the Chargers for a round of drinking games.

“Soon,” said Cole, slipping his hand into hers. Tallis looked down at him, feeling the weight of her spirit-blade slide into her palm.

“Cole?”

“You must stop them,” he told her, when she heard a puzzled shout.

“What’s that smell?”

Her heart dropped into her boots as she looked around. She took a long, slow breath. Surely they wouldn’t –

Something banged and hissed, releasing a familiar scent and an ominous green gas.

Saar-qamek.

“GET TO THE WALLS,” she bellowed, enhancing her voice with pure power. Saar-qamek was heavier than normal air, they would have to evacuate upward. “Get out of the gas!”

A scream ripped though the air. Then another as arrows rained down from above. Tallis looked up, meeting the cool, professional gaze of Cremisius Aclassi. Not Krem, her friend and ally.

Tallis felt her lips curve, power surging beneath her skin, under her feet.

Skyhold stirred, waking. Wind crashed down from over the walls, Elves older than empires swept out of the shadows.

**It is time.** The ancient voice of Asha’belabelas whispered in her ear.

Herald.

Inquisitor.

Daughter.

Weapon.

_Bearer of Sorrow._

Caputalis Adaar unleashed everything she was.

*

“The Iron Bull.” Josephine’s voice was high with stress as Bull and his chief lieutenants are brought before Tallis’ throne. Tallis didn’t look up. She was holding one of Krem’s little stuffed nugs, playing with the small, delicately crafted wings. A tiny nug-dragon, sweet faced and fierce… with creepy little feet.

“The charges….” Josephine’s voice broke.

“It’s fine, Josephine,” said Tallis, setting the toy aside. “I know the crimes. We all do.”

Josephine fell silent and Tallis stood.

“Treason, mass murder…” She swept her gaze over them all. Bull, Krem, Stitches. Skinner, Rocky, Grim. Behind them a restless crowd filled with Ferelden and Orlesian spectators, Inquisition supporters and members. And spirits. So _many_ spirits drifting through the crowd. “It would be easy to convict you. It’s what everyone expects, I’m sure. The Iron Bull and his Chargers. A loyal mercenary company until the contract ends. Of course, your contract with the Inquisition ended the moment Corypheus died. And then your contract with the Empress became active.”

Many of the onlookers flinched.

“Of course it’s not really _that_ which is the problem,” Tallis noted. “I’m sure it entertained her Imperial Majesty to think that she could induce men and women I’ve trusted and valued into betraying me. She forgets that I, too, have been a mercenary. I understand being allies in one conflict and opponents in another. That she would ask for the destruction of those who have protected her is hardly a surprise. Celene Valmont is no stranger to the bloody murder of innocents. After all, she gained a throne upon slaughter.

“So the inevitable charge of _treason_ is dismissed. It’s ludicrous, if for no other reason than the Inquisition isn’t a country, and simple betrayal is not an actionable offense in Chantry law. So, too, are any charges of mass murder – or the attempt thereof. The Chargers, much like _the_ Iron Bull, are merely a weapon.” Tallis smiled. “I’ll take it up with Celene at a later date.”

The crowd gasped, angry murmurings beginning to spread through the surrounding people.

“Inquisitor?” Josephine stared at her. “Do you mean to say that they are free to go?”

“Not at all.” Tallis smiled. “Leliana? Have you and Cole finished your rounds?”

“Indeed we have, Inquisitor.” She nodded toward the entrance to the great hall. Guardsmen came in, urging the crowd to part as another thirty people were ushered toward the throne. “The rest are outside, under guard of course.”

Tallis locked eyes with Skinner. “It must have been hard, shoving that blade between your lover’s ribs. But she was _bas saarebas_ , and you didn’t want her to suffer once Hissrad led you home.”

“Shut up.”

“I could ask which of you it was that killed my mother, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m depriving the Qun of the victory it wanted here,” she said lightly. “I’m not dead. The Inquisition isn’t going to go to war with Orlais. But I _am_ going to go to war with the Triumvirate, and you are welcome to let them know. The Iron Bull, _viddathari:_ For the deaths of Dalish, an elven archer of the Chargers, Madame Vivienne de Fer, Grand Enchanter of Montsimmard, and of Nike Katari, Tal-Vashoth of Nike’s Legion, and for the attempt to create greater instability in southern Thedas _you are exiled._ I hope you find living under the Qun to be _everything_ you believe it to be.”

Shouts erupted from the madding crowd and Tallis raised her hand. “Silence. The Triumvirate wants your anger. They want your rage. _Do not give it to them._ They believe you barbarians who cannot control yourselves, who cannot live to benefit society. _Do not prove their point_. Par Vollen is far away, and so long as we do not succumb to their machinations, they are no threat to the unity we have created.”

Tallis stepped forward, a risk that Leliana would doubtless chide her for, and brushed her fingers down Bull’s dragon-tooth pendant. “Kadan. When they take you for re-education. Try to remember this: I _never promised you a fighting chance._ ”

Bull’s eye widened as she stepped back.

“ _Tallis_.”

“Good bye, the Iron Bull.”

*

“Darling, are you all right?” Dorian asked Tallis a few months later, not long after they’d received confirmation that Bull and his disarmed viddathari had been successfully escorted through the Imperium and taken to Seheron to be released into Qunari custody. She looked up from the ridiculous stacks of paperwork Josephine had tasked her with once the Ambassador had learned that Tallis had been ‘extremely foolish with her birth control.’

“I’m fine,” she told him.

And she was. Treaties had finally been signed, between herself, Ferelden, Orlais, and Jader, creating official Inquisition territory. It had been a pleasure to wring concessions out of Celene on the strength of the Charger’s attack on Skyhold. Asking Ferelden for portions of the land that the Inquisition had come to occupy had been harder, but the slopes of the Frostbacks weren’t going to feed the population of Skyhold.

There were those who were not pleased to find titles like _Duchess_ and _Teryna_ attached to Herald and Inquisitor, but Tallis hardly cared. The Inquisition would provide a buffer state between Orlais and Ferelden, and serve as neutral ground for political dickering between nations, and as an example of what could be done with freedom and equality.

There were still occasional rifts reported, and demon infestations to be rooted out. There were still questions to be answered – was Corypheus alone, or were there other darkspawn magisters that needed to be rooted out? Where had Solas gone, and _what was he?_

But for the moment, the world was quiet.

Tallis’ lips quirked up as Dorian sauntered toward her to lean indolently against the side of her desk.

“Then you can take a break for the midday meal? Cassandra arrived almost an hour ago, without that ridiculous hat that the Chantry makes her wear.”

Tallis could hear Cullen’s voice in the stairwell, with a chattering Cole and laughing Josephine. Leliana’s murmur was offset by a bark of laughter from Varric. Cassandra’s firmness and Blackwall’s self-depreciation.

“She’s here? Why?”

Dorian’s lips pursed as Cullen cleared the stairs, a large tray filled with food in his hands.

“It’s your nameday,” he told her lightly. “And what better way to celebrate survival and new beginnings than with friends and family?”

Tallis set down her pen.

What better way, indeed.


End file.
